#i count calories i make sure i get enough to eat!!!

[nerice]

desperately trying to figure out how my wrist feels after that 5min sketch last night...

[wannabe-skinni-qween]

TW! 111 harsh wl quotes (pt 2)

you can always be thinner, look better

how do you want to feel this summer, fit or jealous?

it gets easier when you get consistent

on good days, workout. on bad days, workout harder

the moment you want to quit is the moment you need to keep pushing

once you control your mind, you can conquer your body

you can either eat well or look well, your choice

pain is weakness leaving the body

starving is the perfect example of will power

hunger won't betray you like eating will

don't eat. if you want to see food, look at your thighs

ballerina or beanbag?

sugar is the enemy

calories can't make you happy

the distance is nothing, it is only the first step that is difficult, make that step.

pleasure to the lips adds pounds to the hips

i do this for me

ana is not an illness, she's the cure

if you can eat past fullness, you can starve past hunger

you're too good to put that in your body

don't listen to your inner fatty, she's an evil bitch

"boys don't like skin and bones" but modeling agencies do

you have two choices, do it now, or regret it later?

do it so steps don't sound like stomps

if you really wanted it, you would have it by now

stay strong, think thin

pretty girls don't eat

coffee, diet coke and cigarettes are what skinny girls are made of

feet together, thighs apart the collar bones are where we start count the ribs and feel the hips that’s what makes us skinny, bitch

the greasy fry it cannot lie, its truth is written on your thigh

bones define who we really are - let them show

food isn't running away from you, you don't need to eat it all at once

don't ever stop trying because one day, you will be thin

there's a skinny girl in you just waiting to come out

quod me nutrit, me destruit (what nourishes me, destroys me)

you can't control life, but you can control what you eat

this is your daily reminder that weight is fixable

tomorrow you'll wish you'd started today, today you wish you'd have started yesterday, only you can break the cycle

don't settle for a body that you don't even like

you don't get the abs you want by laying on them

stop feeling bad for yourself, it's your fault you look like that

you only get one life, don't waste it feeling insecure over something you could easily fix

while you're wasting your time, others are succeeding

you're not a pig right? so stop eating like one

don't let your love for food be the reason you lose love for yourself

keep eating like that and you'll need a whole new wardrobe at this rate

is your plan to gain weight? sure looks like it

all of that binging is really starting to show

you can't afford to give up

get up, nobody is coming to save you

there are so many things in the world that cannot be done through my will alone. other things require money, luck and connections. dieting requires only your will

nothing in this world goes the way you want, you can't conrol anything but you can control what you eat

without struggle, there is no progress

longer hair, thinner body

you will only get what you work for, nothing more, nothing less

being proud to look at the scale

the best form of revenge is a good body

to stop worrying if he can hold you up

what do you mean you gave up on the first day? are you sure you want to keep looking like that?

so your bf/gfs friend will be jealous of them

binge a tv show instead of your kitchen

until you get disgusted enough with your own laziness, nothing will change

stop blaming everything else and start blaming yourself

"i'll start tomorrow" can last for years

if you're not hungry enough to eat an apple, you're not hungry enough to eat those sweets

"i regret working out" – nobody ever

every accomplishment starts with a decision

if it doesn't challenge you, it doesn't change you

think of your workout as important meeting that you've scheduled with yourself. bosses bever cancel

you didn't gain all of that weight in one day, so you won't lose it all in one day. be patient

your body can do anything, it's your brain you have to convince

on the other side of your workout is the body that you want

if you don't take time to get thin now, you're gonna have to deal with being fat later

You don’t need a fancy gym, nikes, or new sweatpants to exercise. you just need yourself and some motivation

crave exercise like you would crave junk food

you must tell yourself, no matter how hard it is or how hard it gets, you are going to make it

consistency > perfection

start where you are. use what you have. do what you can

and i am pure now...

i have a rule when i weight myself: if i gain, i starve for the rest of the day. if i lose, i do the same thing

nothing matters when i'm thin

you will be tempted quite frequently, and you will have to choose whether you will enjoy your self hugely in the twenty minutes or so that you will be consuming the excess calories, or whether you will dislike yourself cordially for two or three days, for your lack of willpower

food is a hinderance to your progress

every supposed pleasure in sin will furnish more than it's equivalent of pain

don't do anything today that you'll regret tomorrow

like a plant, surely, the body can be trained to exist on nothing ~ to take it's nourishment from the air

to be thin, no price is too high

lose everything and what is real will still remain

you can learn to love anything, i think, if you need to badly enough. i trained myself to enjoy feeling hungry

starving is more fulfilling than eating will ever be

food is temptation. once you overcome food, you can overcome anything

i don't care if it hurts. i want to have control. i want a perfect body. i want a perfect soup

when you start to feel weak and dizzy, you're almost there

i'm not there yet, but i'm closer than i was yesterday

we are what we repeatedly do, excellence is not an act, but a habit

you can always go further than you think you can

everything i want is buried under a layer of fat

re-measure, re-weigh, try harder

success is determined by how determined you are to succeed

time spent wasting is not wasted time

someday is not a day of the week

nobody ever got ahead by sitting on their ass

inside everybody is a thin person waiting to get out, but she is too sedated by a slice of chocolate cake

you could die at any time and once you are dead, you will be that weight FOREVER. do you want to look fat when everyone comes by to see you in the coffin?

starvation is fulfilling. i will do whatever it takes. colors become brighter, sounds sharper, odors so much more savory and penetrating that inhalation fills every fiber and pore of the body. the greatest food is actually found when a morsel never passes the lips

"jeez you're heavy" or "woah you're so light"

i am your butter and your bread, i am the voice inside your head

the stomach is ungrateful. it always forgets that we gave it something

sweat is just your fat crying

food is mean and sneaky. it tricks you into eating it and it works on you from the inside out, making you fat, bloated, ugly and unhappy

every calorie you eat equals another step toward your destruction

i can't believe i found all of these... should i attemt pt 3??

[cevansbrat0007]

There is a trend on some social media where the wife/Gf gives her man a full plate and only her self a little saying that is all that was left. How would Andy and Ari act in that situation?

What's Eating You, Mr. Levinson?

Summary: You decide to test your man's patience with a prank you saw on TikTok. CLICK HERE to read Andrew Barber's reaction to the same prompt.

Warnings: Mature Themes, References to Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, TikTok Hijinks, Brief Mention of Calorie Counting, Bickering, Manhandling, Threats of Spanking/Punishment, Discussion of a Sex Tape, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt brought to you courtesy of a Reader Request. This fic features Ari Levinson from my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

You weren’t quite sure what possessed you to do this. If anybody asked, you would claim temporary insanity. But right now you were about to get up to some mischief. 

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” You mutter under your breath as you adjust the position of the camera you hid tucked away behind a plant. Pleased with the angle, you make a mental note to revisit the world of Harry Potter sooner rather than later. 

It was officially time for a reread. 

Tonight you were gonna play a little joke on your bounty hunter boyfriend. One that you’d come across the other day after accidentally straying from the wonderful world of BookTok. You just hoped he would find it as amusing as you did. In fact, you were certain that he would.

Eventually.   

Hands on your hips, you do an about-face and traipse back into the kitchen to get started on dinner. On tonight’s menu was a Tuscan pork roast, complete with red wine mushrooms and Haricots Verts – also known as French Green Beans. And for dessert, you’d decided to whip up your man’s favorite: key lime pie 

So, even if he got pissed at you later, you were confident you had something that would soothe his ruffled feathers. 

Fingers crossed.

Later that Evening…

The heady thrum of excitement hits you the moment you hear the open and shut of your front door. Having anticipated his arrival, you’d even thrown on a new dress and cued up a little music. While it wasn’t your usual style, you knew without a doubt that Ari would appreciate your efforts. 

“Bird?” 

The sound of your nickname has a smile forming on your lips before you even realize it. Smoothing your hands over your skirt, you make your way towards your mudroom, eager to greet your handsome bounty hunter. 

His eyes light up the moment he sees you. He stands there for a moment, drinking in the sight you clad in your new black dress and wedge heels. 

“Well, get a look at you.” He breathes, allowing his bag to drop at his feet next to his forgotten boots.

“You like?” Biting your lip, you give into temptation and do a little spin. 

Confidence blooms when you hear his appreciative whistle. But that’s nowhere near enough for your man. Because now that you’d gone and given him a show, he wanted more. 

“Oh baby, I love.” 

Pulling you into his arms, his mouth quickly descends upon your own. His tongue wastes no time finding yours, exploring every inch, every corner of your mouth. He lets you know without words that he’s so unbelievably happy to be home holding you like this. 

You cling to him, your hands roving beneath the soft fabric of his t-shirt to run along the sculpted plane of his back. When he finally lets you up for air it’s so he can nuzzle his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet, unique scent.    

“You’re beautiful.” He rasps, pecking your lips once more, his large hands come up to frame your face. “So beautiful. Can’t wait to take this dress off you later, see what you might be hiding underneath.”

“All in good time, Beast.” Your lashes flutter closed as you lean into his touch. “All in good time.”

“What if I don’t wanna wait?” His husky growl rumbles from somewhere deep in his chest as he fiddles the material of your skirt. 

“Well, you’re gonna.” Comes your cheeky response. “So go on and wash up for supper. We’re having something yummy.” You bat as his hands, intending to shoo him up the stairs.

The look that flashes across your man’s face makes it clear that he’d much rather have you for dinner instead. He boxes you in, slowly crowding you with his much larger frame as he backs you against a nearby wall. 

However, you refuse to let yourself be swayed.

“I mean it, mister.” You repeat, poking him in the chest. “Now, be a good boy and go wash up.” Ari’s eyes darken at your words. His head dips without warning as he bites your finger, sucking the digit into his mouth, making you gasp. 

“Alright, Duchess. Have it your way.” He growls once he finally deigns to release you. “You’d best be ready for me when I get back.” With that, he gives you his back as he strides off in the direction of the stairs.

“I ain’t scared of you.” You tell his retreating form, waiting until you hear his heavy footfalls sounding on the floor above you. Only then do you move, intending to finish setting up for dinner. 

‘Alright, sugar.’ You think, taking a second to fluff your curls. ‘Time to earn yourself an Oscar.’ 

Fifteen Minutes Later…

You’ve just finished hiding away what’s left of your meal when you hear Ari make his way into your tiny dining room.

“Have a seat, Beast!” You call out, hoping that the act you were about to put on was at least mildly convincing. “I–I’ll be right in.”

Blowing out a breath you snag your bounty hunter’s plate, along with a glass of wine, and head into the next room. Although he admittedly wasn’t much of a wine drinker before he met you, he tended to enjoy whatever selection you paired with your meal. 

Tonight you’d picked a lovely pinot noir.       

This time when you see him, you’re treated to the sight of a freshly showered Ari lazily sprawled in one of your slightly too small chairs. His still damp hair is pushed back off his face as he waits for you, patiently biding his time while he plans his next move.

Or so you assumed, anyway.

“Here you are.” You sing as you approach. “Tonight I bring you an expertly roasted Tuscan pork loin, complete with a garlic and mushroom risotto and french-style green beans.”

“Smells good, baby.” He absentmindedly scratches at his jaw while he surveys the mountain of food on his plate. 

“Hopefully it tastes good too.” You lean down to press a quick kiss against his temple. “I’ll, uh, be right back with mine.” The handsome brute smacks your ass when you turn to depart, making you yip.      

“Hurry back.” He grunts, letting out a chuckle when he sees you trying to rub the sting out of your butt.

Seconds later you return with your food before quietly taking a seat at the table, all the while refusing to make eye contact. Picking up your napkin, you make a show of draping it across your knee, and then…

You wait. 

It doesn’t take long for Ari to notice the differences between your respective plates, and it takes even less time for him to speak on it – much to your internal satisfaction.

“What the–?” Ari pushes his plate aside so that he can get a better look at your virtually empty one. “Where the hell’s the rest of your food, baby?” His deep voice comes out deceptively soft.  

“Huh?” You cast him a sheepish glance, feigning embarrassment. “Oh this? It’s fine.”

“That’s not what I asked, Bird.” The quiet steel in his voice is impossible to miss.

“I know it wasn’t. But this was all that was left, so…” You trail off, averting your gaze in favor of using your fork to push food around your plate. “It’s fine.”

“There’s that damn word again.” You hear him grumble under his breath, his nostrils flaring in frustration. “I got news for you, Bird. It ain’t fine.” He grouses, reaching for you even as you shift away.

“But it is.” You sing, daintily fanning yourself with a napkin. 

“No it isn’t.” He sings right back, clearly not understanding your game. Which was a good thing. It meant that you two could play a little longer.  

“Look, if this is about you feeling like you need to start counting calories again…” Ari goes to rest his elbows on the table, his own meal all but forgotten. “Then please believe me when I tell you that you look phenomenal. And not just tonight, baby. I mean every night.”

You feel your cheeks heat as your body responds to his praise. That familiar warmth soon spreads, pooling in your belly while you mentally preen at his words.  

“Thank you, Ari.” 

“Oh don’t thank me, sweet girl.” His already husky voice dips another octave. “I just want you to eat.” You stifle a small shiver when the roughened pads of his fingertips lightly graze over your hand. “Now, do me a kindness and take your pretty little self back into that kitchen and fix yourself a proper plate.” 

And there it was. He thought you were lying about there not being any leftovers. He was right, of course. Just not the way he thought he was. 

“I would if I could, sugar.” You stretch out your legs beneath the table as you prepare to really sell the narrative. “Honest. But there really isn’t anything left. I…accidentally only bought one pork loin instead of two. And then I misjudged the recipe for the risotto, but that was most likely on account of the fact that I was in my feelings about the state of Herb & Twine’s green beans selection. It wasn’t very good.”

Ari doesn’t tell you this, but he’s actually impressed by your ability to speak that fast without so much as taking a breath. Instead all you receive is a gruff “uh huh” for your trouble.  

“So,” You forge on, now fully committed to the bit. “I salvaged what I could out of the meal I planned and then gave most of it to you.”

“Why?” 

Boy, he did not look happy. Which was great news for you

“Because…” You draw out the word, wincing when you belatedly notice the sudden tick in his jaw. “I just…felt like you shouldn’t have to suffer for my mistakes.”

“Oh.” He hums, pursing his lips as he mulls over your story. “Well, I reckon we’ll just have to fix that.”

Unsure of what he means, you open your mouth to keep talking, only to let out a shriek when Ari suddenly reaches over to grip the back of your chair to drag you, and it, over closer to him.  

“Christ, Beast!” Your hand flies to your still-heaving chest as you will your heartbeat to calm down. 

But your man’s not done yet. 

You scarcely have time to catch your breath before you’re hauled into his lap. Immediately your arms go to weave themselves around his neck to keep you from falling. Not that Ari would’ve ever allowed that to happen.

Seemingly unbothered by your rather dramatic response, Ari seeks to balance you on top of his muscled thighs as he leans over again to retrieve your plate. You watch in confusion as he unceremoniously dumps the contents onto his own dish before setting yours aside once more. 

“Hate to break it to you, Duchess.” He seamlessly adjusts your positions so that he can grasp his knife and fork. “But I don’t need all this food. So it looks like we’ll just have to share.” 

Momentarily stunned by this turn of events you can only nod as he feeds you a tender bite of pork. It takes a moment for you to find your voice, but when you finally do, it’s to utter two simple words. 

“Ari, wait.” 

“‘Fraid I’m not really in the mood to wait.” Your impatient bounty hunter warns. But he does pause his efforts, his fork hovering mere centimeters from your mouth. “You’re nuts if you think I’m the kinda man who would even consider stuffing himself while his lady sits by and starves.”

“I know.” You assure him before rearranging your body so that you’re facing him, your thighs  now straddling his hips. “And I think that’s awfully sweet.”

“Great. So how about you –”

“But since this is a prank…” The grin you’re sporting threatens to split your face in two. “It looks like you get to keep your food.”

Ari blinks back at you, his mouth briefly opening and closing in a way that very much reminds you of a fish. You feel positively giddy as you press your hands on either side of his bearded face so you can plant a kiss on his full lips while he tries, and fails, to make sense of what you just said. 

“Run that by me one more time.” His quiet snarl is enough to have you soaking your panties.

“I saw this thing on TikTok, where these women all decided to prank their boyfriends by serving them this big ol’ plate of food, while pretending to give themselves only a little bit and claiming that was all that was leftover. They filmed their reactions and posted ‘em for everyone else to see.”

“What the hell is a fuckin’ TikTok?” 

“It’s this app where you…” You pause as you try to find the right words. “Where people can, um–”

“Post dumb shit?” He quirks a tawny brow as he tries to remain serious, even though you’re also pretty sure that you just saw his lips twitch. “Come up with new and inventive ways to torture the men that love them?”

“I mean, that’s not all it is.” You take a moment to whisper kisses along his chiseled jaw. “But I guess that’s a pretty accurate description.”

“Hmph.” Your grumpy bounty hunter continues to glower at you, even as his large, warm hands move to settle on your hips. “And am I right to assume you’re recording this?”

“Maybe…” You giggle, not bothering to hide just how funny you found this all to be. “Oh – but I was never gonna post it. Promise.” 

You hold up your pinky, trying your hardest to look solemn. But the look Ari gives you lets you know that he’s done falling for your act. 

“I’m warning you, Duchess.” He grunts, lightly bouncing you on his lap. “I swear to God, if I catch myself on that fuckin’ tock clock…thing…you have my word that I’m gonna redden that ass.”

“I already told you I wasn’t gonna.” You reassure him once more, resting your forehead against his. “By the way, thanks for bein’ such a good sport about the whole thing.”

“No problem.” He flashes you a feral grin, revealing his pearly white teeth. It shoots straight to your core. “But the way I see it, you kinda owe me one. Don’t you?” He leans in close as his hands begin gently kneading your curves. 

“Um…I don’t think–” You let out a soft whimper when he drags his nose along the delicate column of your throat.

“Oh, but I do.” He nips at your jaw. 

“I suppose that’s fair.” 

“Trust me, it is.” His sensual growl has you practically shivering with need. “Which is why you’re gonna show me where you hid that camera.” His lust-filled gaze drops to your cleavage as he openly begins undressing you with his eyes.

“Now hold on a minute, Beast –” You stammer once realization dawns. 

“Aw, don’t fret.” Ari’s rueful chuckle lets you know that you will never win this battle. “You’ll have your turn to direct our little movie.” Ari suddenly stands without warning so that he can gently deposit you back in your own chair. “Especially now that I know how much you love performing for the camera.

Oh, the man had you there. Sometimes your Beast was a bit too cunning for your liking. 

“I don’t think–” You try again, now feeling shy. “What we do in the dark has no business being on film!”

“Hm, guess we’ll just have to keep the lights on. But for now, let’s get you fed.” He drops a kiss on your head before picking up your empty dish and sauntering off towards the kitchen. “We’ll talk lighting and camera angles once you’re finished.” 

Good Lord on high. What had you just gotten yourself into?

“Here we are.” Ari continues upon his return a few minutes later. He sets your down in front of you before taking your napkin and redraping it across your lap. “But I’d eat fast if I were you.”

“Um…why?” You ask, eyeing him warily. 

“Because.” He winks at you before taking a seat and enthusiastically spearing a piece of meat onto his fork. “Tonight’s dress rehearsal starts in thirty minutes.”

END

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[it-was-summer]

Video Killed the Radio Star - Tape #4 (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Y'all this chapter took so long to write. This is NOT proofread once again me and Grammarly were beefing because she doesn't understand fanfiction. Nonetheless, it is 12 am MST and here it is. Now for an overall warning, this chapter talks about so much that I was to let everyone know that I meant for this to be a dark series. That was my goal. I'm so sorry if some of these topics seem like they're too heavy for you. If you feel overwhelmed, disgusted, or just find it hard to read please remember that it is okay and you are loved. This chapter mentions miscarriages, eating disorders, gunshot wounds, suicide, etc. I love you all and stay healthy. I will try to post my 500 followers post soon! Not proofread because eepy. YOU'LL read my chapter unedited and you'll like it! (hopefully). Thanks for reading. -Love you all, Em.

Video Killed the Radio Star Remake Masterlist

Link to the Ao3: Video Killed the Radio Star

Previous Chapter: Tape #3 > Next Chapter: Coming Soon...

WARNING: miscarriage, eating disorder, catholic guilt, bisexuality mention??, period underwear, stalking, marital problem, divorce, sexual harassment, guns, knives, gunshot wound, This bitch shoots someone, suicide, mention of a skull, blood so much blood.

Tape Contents: We briefly dive into Heather's past. Adeline makes a call that gives the team a reason to visit the suburbs. Heather makes a decision. You see something other than pink for the first time in four days.

Word Count: 6,296

Seven to Four Years Prior- January 10, 20XX

Heather had to get out of Norfolk. She felt suffocated under her father’s watchful gaze and helicopter ways. He was a hard man to love and hard to be around in general. When he drank, she used to pray that he would forget about her, so she became quiet. She didn’t have many friends here anyway, so she took you out of the equation and knew no one else would know her name. 

So, with a heavy heart, she moved her life away to Richmond. She changed her major to nursing and killed that quiet girl from Norfolk. She fabricated real lies that sometimes she couldn’t separate from reality. She stared at girls silently with longing and played it off as admiration if she was ever caught. Catholic guilt stopped it from growing into anything else. 

She was slow to open up about her feelings and showed people an extroverted sorority girl nursing graduate who liked to go to bars on the weekend and let men’s hands pull at her hips desperately in dark corners. 

Now, at twenty-four, she only thought about one thing: how good her stomach looked in this dress. She had thinned out tremendously since the move. At first, it started due to not having enough money to eat anywhere except the shitty university cafeteria. Then, it warped into something else. During its worst moments, she would log her calories or purge food moments after eating it. She could look into mirrors afterward and feel she was achieving something remarkable. Then, sometimes, she would also look at her face and think, ‘Is that what I look like’? 

But tonight, she wanted to do something different, something fun. Having told her sorority sisters this, they all jumped on board quickly, agreeing to meet at the bar around 10 p.m. that Saturday. They were thirty minutes late. 

Heather was gently fiddling with the hem of her short black dress, her eyes flickering towards the entrance every so often as she waited for them to walk in. This year, she wanted to be happier, less suffering in silence, and a little more smiley. So yes, she wanted to have fun with people she called friends. Despite all her efforts, she was sure they could see right through her sometimes. She swallowed nervously as she nursed a margarita. 

The next time she looked at her phone, she saw texts from her former sisters saying that work had been hectic and that they needed to reschedule for another time. So now, Heather Alexander was right back at square one: alone. She glanced down at her dress and frowned slightly at its tight material. It was the kind of dress that made her uncomfortable but made men comfortable. Something always felt wrong with that. Heather always secretly knew that she felt an attraction to women and men, but she always felt guilty at the thought. 

She sighed as she debated her next move when she saw him. He was the prettiest man she had ever seen. He had soft masculine features that almost looked slightly feminine, a uniform clad against his chest, and a charming boyish smile as their eyes met. Heather whispered a silent prayer that he would like her as he approached her and introduced himself as David Hernandez. How could she not fall for him instantly? Deep brown eyes, pink lips, dark skin, and a low rumble in his voice made her feel like giggling. 

It wasn’t long before the two of them were getting married. They spent a few months together in domestic bliss. He got some time off from work, and she kept her last name, and they were… happy. 

At least they were happy for six months, and then her world shattered around her as David was deployed to England. She cried herself to sleep the night she heard, and David stroked her back softly to calm her. Heather didn’t want him to leave her and see someone better overseas. She was sure that women would throw themselves at David’s feet, begging him to kiss them, touch them, fuck them, like whores in the street of Babylon. She couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else touching him, looking at him the way she looked at him, talking to him the way she did in his ear late at night. She begged him to try and find some way out of it, scared to lose what was rightfully hers, but he couldn’t. He left that week.

At first, it was just six months, but then it stretched out into a year of deployment—a year spent being faithful to a man across the Atlantic. She called him when she had time, wrote letters to him, sent him emails, and constantly contacted him in any way she could. 

When he got home, it was clear that all her efforts had gone to waste. David was distant. He would sulk in corners of their home on his phone. He would lament on and on about how England felt like his home and how he missed it. She couldn’t stand it. This house they bought together was his home, and it always had been. Why was he struggling to see that? 

The more he talked of his deployment, the more Heather became frustrated with him. Then he started to go out more. At first, it was just to speak with some Army friends on base a few spread-out weekends in the month. Then it was every weekend. 

Heather found that the only thing that could keep him home was sex. So they had sex constantly, like animals in heat. Disgusting and rutting against each other any moment they could. However, the second that it was over, he would withdraw again. He would get dressed and say he had to get to the base. 

Then he was coming late, drunk and slurring, as he pulled her to the edge of the bed and woke her up with sensual touches and dirty talk. She took this as a good sign he was coming home to his wife. He was fucking her and no one else. But slowly, he stopped coming home. He would call her late at night to tell her he would stay with a friend for the night. The following day, he would come home smelling sweet. 

Heather felt lost, searching desperately for something to save her marriage. She was devoting all of her love to a man who no longer wanted it, and she could feel him falling out of love with her. 

Her saving grace was the morning that she found out she was pregnant. She called David with tears in her eyes and told him softly over the phone, and she heard him laugh for the first time in months. And just like that, he was back. 

His soft touches, kisses in the grocery store, and dancing with her in the living room were all back. Her devoted and dotting husband had returned home to her. She could feel the dark cloud of the past couple of months dissipate and the sun shining on her. 

That light lasted a good three months. Heather sat up straight as pain coursed through her body, thundering in her abdomen as she shook David awake with tears streaming down her face. Something was wrong with the baby; she knew it. He drove her to the hospital as fast as he could, but it was too late. She had already miscarried.

Heather took a small sabbatical from work and took time to think about her life. She would stare out of their living room window blankly for hours. David was attentive at first, coming home after work and tending to Heather’s broken spirit. But he soon became bored of that routine. 

When Heather returned to the pediatric oncology unit, David was notified that he was being deployed again to Okinawa, Japan. He was packed and ready by the end of that month. She didn’t see him off at the airport, picking up an extra shift at the hospital to distract her from the fact that he was leaving her again. 

David called her two months into his leave to tell her he wasn’t happy. He wanted a divorce. Then he hung up before she could get a word in. That’s when it all started. Her obsession with consuming anything romantic was almost debilitating. She would visit bookstores and attend readings at the public library, sometimes calling off from work to sit at home with her romances. That’s when she saw you again. She thought that you would have stayed in Norfolk. You had once told her that you loved the water. You liked how it could look gloomy and promising on different days, with mist rolling off the surface. 

She tried not to talk to you. She did. She didn’t want to scare you away like she scared David away. No, no, no, she was sure it would all work out this time. So she loved you from a comfortable distance, watching you from her car on the weekends at night, leaving you her gifts on your windshield—a silent courting. 

She couldn’t help herself on Valentine’s Day. She had slipped into Nicole Smith’s room without Adeline recognizing her, and she gave the table with Adeline’s purse on it a gentle knock with her hip. Heather apologized quickly, telling her not to worry. She promptly dropped to the floor to gather the spilled contents from Adeline’s bag, and she slipped a labeled key connected to a keychain that read ‘or die’ into her pocket. Once she had copied the key, she quickly returned the original to its owner. 

She felt electric when she entered your apartment on Valentine's Day in a dark outfit, a hood covering her face, and four dozen rose petals in a container. She breathed in your perfume as she perused through your bathroom. She traced the spine of every book she could touch on your shelves. She gently dove into your dirty hamper and quickly pulled out a pair of dirty underwear, blood on the inside of them as she shamelessly slipped them into her pocket. Then she got to work spreading the petals throughout your apartment. By the end, she stared at her work, panting lightly as she lay across on your rose-covered bed. 

She had to have you. 

Present Day- March 5, 20XX

Derek and Spencer managed to get to the public library an hour before closing. They pulled your coworker, Valerie, aside. She was a pretty brunette, glasses resting on her face delicately as she stared at the two men with a soft look of disappointment. She knew that if they were here, they had yet to find you, and the thought made her feel like breaking down in a fit of tears. She fought the urge to cry as Derek asked her a question, sliding a copy of the Polaroid you had received on your windshield. “Do you happen to remember anyone coming in with a Polaroid camera?” 

Valerie stared at the Polaroid with a soft frown, trying to remember something helpful. Spencer spoke quickly, “Sometime around January fourteenth, maybe?”

Valerie chewed on her bottom lip before the memory washed over her, “Yes! Yes, oh gosh, she was blonde, I think. I remember telling her we didn’t like flash photography in the library. I only saw the back of her head, but I remember the back of her head and the flash of a camera.” 

Spencer tilted his head slightly and nodded at Valerie’s words, processing the information silently.“Are you sure it was a woman?” Spencer asked softly before Valarie enthusiastically nodded. 

“Yes, it was definitely a woman who took the picture.” She confirmed in a soft voice before she looked down at the Polaroid with a gentle tenderness in her eyes. “She baked me cookies last week, you know?” She looked up at the two men with a sad smile and tears in her eyes. “My cat is sick, and she made me cookies to make me feel better.” She laughed sadly as the tears started to fall. 

Derek placed a soft hand over Valerie’s and gave her a tender look, “We’re looking for her,” The words caused a shaky sigh to escape Valarie’s lips as she pulled her hand away quickly and stood up. 

Her cheeks were red as she cried out a soft “Excuse me.” before she turned on her heel and hurriedly left the room. 

Spencer picked up the picture and stared at you in the photo. The way your hair shined in the fluorescent light, your eyes and smile trained directly on the person you were talking to. You were personable, and the thought made his stomach turn. He looked over at Derek as Spencer handed the photo back to him. 

The two men walked out of the library silently, and Derek let out a soft sigh as he watched the sun starting to settle against the horizon. Spencer walked beside him with his hand stuffed in his pockets, and his head hung a little low in thought. 

Derek broke the silence first, “We should get back to the station to see if JJ and Rossi have anything,” 

And then they rode back in contemplative silence after that. 

March 6, 20XX

You weren’t sure if it was day or night anymore. All you knew was that you were starting to feel uneven. Every creak of wood, settling of pipes, and rumble of the house had your back straightening against the bed. You were sure that Heather would fly in at any moment and touch you. 

A million options weighed heavy in your mind at the scenario; you could fight back again, but that would get you sliced again or worse. You could go with it, zone out as much as possible, let her have her way with you. That option made your head spin with nausea. You had to find a way to get out. 

You licked at the gash on your lip, gently exploring the cut with your tongue until you could feel the warmth of blood again. You pushed your tongue back into your mouth and looked over at your day-old apple on the nightstand, half-eaten and brown. You tenderly took a small bite that wouldn’t require you to move your lips too much. 

You didn’t have much of the day-old meal left; a half-full water and this apple was all you had. You chewed softly, fighting off the nausea that threatened to creep in due to the morphine. 

You tried to remember anything that could be helpful to you. It was hard to think of high doses of morphine. You had played with the knob often; when you were ready to sleep, it would go up, and when you were up, it would turn down. But lately, you just wanted it to be turned up. 

You tried to think of when Heather came into the pink room. She always stuffed her keys into her pockets. A plan was in the making: Get her out of her clothes, and you could get the keys. 

You nodded a little despite your discomfort with the idea of her touching you again. You just had to seduce her a little, which should be easy considering that she was ‘in love’ with you. The only problem with that plan was that you had a mangled ankle and a body running on morphine; she didn’t. Heather’s temper was quick when you talked back, and rage followed if you did something against her liking. 

Maybe begging would work. No, you tried that already. Why would begging work? Perhaps you could hurt yourself just enough to force her to take you to the hospital. But that didn’t work either; she was a nurse. She wouldn’t incriminate herself like that, would she? Maybe total submission would be the key. 

Convince her that you love her back and somehow ask to be let out with her supervision, but that could take forever. 

You started to cry softly as you set down the core of the apple and laid down, wishing to pull your legs to your chest, but the pain of one ankle and the chain around the other made that physically impossible. 

You cried until you felt your eyelids become heavy, tears still slipping out of your eyes as you fell into a morphine-induced sleep. 

March 6, 20XX

JJ paced back and forth in front of the bulletin board, occasionally flicking her eyes over to the photos pinned to it as she tried to chase what was likely to be a loose end. The number that had called yours and left a message full of sobs had been a burner. 

Spencer had tried to tell her to eat something this morning, but as the clock’s hands crept towards nine a.m., she still didn’t feel hungry enough to try. She sighed out another frustrated huff as Emily appeared in front of her. “If you sigh like that one more time, I think I might have to force a croissant down your throat.” 

JJ gave her another dramatic sigh before she put her hands on her hips: “I’m sorry, I just feel like we have no leads. We know it's a woman, but Adeline isn’t likely to be the unsub, and all her coworkers have alibis. It just feels like we are running around with our heads cut off.” 

Emily smiled and gave her a gentle nod of understanding, “I get it, but you pacing around like this isn’t helping anyone. Let’s get you a drink, coffee, or maybe something to eat.” 

“People who eat breakfast consistently are twenty-five percent likely to be more productive at work,” Spencer spoke up from a desk not too far from the two women. 

Emily pointed over at Spencer, “See? You’re making Spencer freak out.” 

“I’m not freaked out,” Spencer frowned at the comment before looking back at a file on the desk. 

JJ’s smile was slow as she let her hands fall to her side and let out a soft, “Fine.” She agreed as Emily walked over to the precinct's breakroom, JJ following her. 

Derek was clicking a pen obnoxiously in an off-beat rhythm. He was about to say something when his phone started to ring on his desk. He didn’t recognize the number, but he answered it anyway. “Hello?” 

“Hi, uhm, is this Special Agent Morgan?” Adeline’s voice was shaky through the phone. 

Derek relaxed slightly as he set down his pen. “Yeah, Adeline. Did something happen?” He couldn’t think of another reason as to why she would call the number he had left with her if nothing happened. He was too focused on the case to think of any other reason anyway. 

“Yeah, maybe? I was talking to one of the nurses about something today, and I recognized one of them. I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner, but it was an old friend from college. She was more Y/N’s friend than mine, but I talked to her a little.” Adeline’s voice dropped to a whisper as she continued, “I mentioned that she was missing, and Heather had a weird reaction. She smiled for a second. I swear, she said she was sad to hear that, but she looked… well, for a second, it just seemed like maybe she was happy.” 

Derek picked the pen back up again, ready to write down a name. It wasn’t much, but they could visit her. “What was her name again?” 

“Gosh, it was Heather something… Heather, Heather, Heather,” She bit her lip as she tried to think back. “Alexander! Heather Alexander.” 

Derek wrote it down and muttered quickly, “We'll look into it, thanks.” As a goodbye, he let Adeline quickly thank him over the phone before he hung up and called Penelope. 

Penelope, quick as always, picked up on the first ring. “Center of divine intellect,” was her greeting. 

“Good morning to you, too, baby girl. Listen, could you get Heather Alexander's address? Adeline Smith called saying that she had a strange reaction to hearing about our girl going missing.” 

“Easy,” was her answer before Derek could hear the sounds of keys being tapped against and a soft humming sound emitting from Penelope’s lips as she pulled up the address: “4432 Lake Margaret Pl., Chesterfield, Virginia.” 

“You are an angel, Garcia.” 

“I always aim to please,” 

“And you never fail, baby girl.” 

JJ had begged Derek with her eyes to let her go with Spencer. It was just an interview, not even an interrogation, just to see if the connection between you and Heather went deeper than old college friends. So why shouldn’t she go? 

Derek wasn’t one to put up a big fight, so he let her with Spencer. It was only thirty minutes away anyway, so if they needed the team it wouldn’t take too long for them to show up, right? He stayed behind on the phone with Garcia, who was doing her best to see if Heather had any criminal history on her record. 

As the car rolled around the cul de sac, Spencer’s eyes struggled to look away from the plethora of plants in the fenced-in front yard. Pink anemones were scattered amongst daffodils, and what looked like daisies were blooming side by side. JJ rolled the car to a stop, parking it against the curb. 

“Pretty yard,” She muttered as she took the keys out of the ignition. Spencer nodded a little; he had to admit that Spring came in a close second to Fall as the superior season in his mind. The flowers growing after frozen earth had kept them dormant, the welcomed feeling of the sun getting slightly warmer. It was still somewhat chilly at ten in the morning as he stepped out of the car with JJ, but he had to admit, it was shaping up to be a beautiful day weather-wise. 

His head tilted back a little as he stole a glance at the blue sky above them and smiled before stuffing his hands into his pockets and tilting his head toward the house. JJ smiled and walked beside him, happy to be out of the precinct and in the early morning air.

Heather was washing the paring knife she had used on you in her kitchen sink, facing a large bay window in her living room. She swiped at the hardened blood and frowned a little at the memory. Why was she so upset with you? She could hardly remember herself when she got angry like that. 

It was almost fitting, her flying off the handle over something so simple as you not being ready for her love. Was she no better than a man? Had she gotten so accustomed to men's vile and sharp ways that she had somehow forgotten how to be gentle? 

She felt her hands shake as a voice came into her head, whispering her worst fear: She was worse than her father. 

She let tears blur her vision at the thought as she rubbed the knife harder with a sponge, shaking her head quickly. No, no, no, no. She was not like that man. She was not cold like that man. She was lovable. She felt love. She felt overwhelming love for you. She had felt overwhelming love for David. 

Her downward spiral was cut short as she lifted her weeping head and saw a black SUV parked in front of her yard. She quickly wiped away a stray tear with the back of her hand and sniffled lightly as she gently slid the knife into the dishwasher, watching two people get out of the van. 

Heather’s eyes were glued to the blonde at first, pretty and fair in the morning sun before her eyes flickered to the man beside her. She recognized him immediately. She was sure it was the same man she almost ran into at the hospital yesterday. 

She dried her hands as she walked around the kitchen island. As they got closer, her head arched to see how close they were. Panic was running through her veins. Her gun was in her room upstairs, loaded. She just had to get upstairs; her feet were quick to try and run upstairs and stash it somewhere close before they could ring the doorbell. Just as the idea seemed plausible enough, the bell rang through the house. 

Heather let out a silent scream of panic as she smoothed out her shirt, fixed her hair, and caught a quick glance of her pretty face in the mirror near the front door before she swung it open with a pleasantly fake smile on her face. Her eyes quickly scanned both of their faces as she smiled. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, hi. My name is Jennifer Jareau. This is Spencer Reid. We’re with the FBI, and we were just wondering if we could ask you some questions.” JJ spoke clearly as she flashed her badge at Heather, a slight smile on her lips as she looked into Heather’s eyes. Spencer recognized her, finding it strange that he had almost run directly into the beautiful woman at the hospital just the day before. 

Heather laughed softly and nodded as she stepped aside, opening the door wider to let the two agents inside. “Of course,” Her hands were shaking, but she gripped the edge of the door tightly, half tempted to slam it directly in their faces and go upstairs to shoot Catherine and herself to freedom.  

They weren’t on to her yet; she was sure of that– especially given their lack of people– just two against one. She was quick to shut the door behind them before leading the two of them into her living room. “Can I get you two any water? I have some juice.” 

The two agents shook their heads in a polite ‘no, thank you’ way as they sat on the sofa across from Heather. Heather sat on a chair with a soft “Okay” as she eyed them carefully. “Am I in some kind of trouble here?” 

“No, We just wanted to ask you a few questions regarding an old college friend of yours, Y/N L/N.” 

“Well,” She smoothed out her long skirt slowly, remembering to breathe normally, “What about her?” 

“Had you been in contact with her at all? Did she mention anything about someone following her?” 

Heather let out a gentle laugh as she shook her head, “I haven’t really had the time to reach out to old friends lately,” 

Spencer’s interest peaked as he joined the conversation, “How come?” 

Heather’s gaze became a little pointed at the question. Of course, the man has to ask her, “I lost a baby recently, and my husband was deployed soon after, so forgive me for not becoming pen pals with someone I knew at eighteen.” The words were direct and vicious, but she couldn’t help herself. She blew out a soft sigh before she let out a gentle and timid, “I’m sorry,” 

Spencer licked his lips nervously as he leaned back against the sofa slightly, trying to resist the urge to disappear into it. Self-isolation wasn’t uncommon for women who had recently suffered from a miscarriage. That feeling more than likely increased as her support system was ripped away from her. 

JJ gently touched Spencer’s knee before she cut the tension. “I’m sorry to hear that, Mrs. Alexander. We’re just trying to piece some information together.” 

Heather ran a hand through her hair before she gave JJ a tight-lipped smile. “I understand that; I’m sorry. Would it be alright if I ran upstairs for some medicine? I feel a headache coming on.” She spoke fast with a tense voice, trying her hardest to pass it off as pain with a rub of her temple. When JJ nodded, she stood up and headed upstairs as calmly as she could manage. 

JJ looked over at Spencer, watching Heather walk away carefully. “She seems angrier with men than anything.” Her voice was slightly amused before Spencer frowned. 

“Doesn’t mean she’s in the clear; stalking is often a form of intense infatuation, but it's also used as a way to control something. She’s struggling with two things that could be our stressors: she’s craving control or dependency. She-” The soft ringing of his phone cut off his whispered rant. He answered it, happy that at least it was just Garcia calling, hoping for a better lead than his ongoing hunch. 

He stood and looked at JJ, who was mouthing for him to go outside, “Hey,” He answered as he slipped out of the front door. 

“Hey, nothing is coming up anywhere on Heather’s record for criminal activity—sorority sister, wife, nurse, clean as a whistle. However, considering we don’t have much right now, I decided to see if she had any warnings at work.” 

“Right,” Spencer looked over his shoulder at the front door as he walked away to stand in front of the garage. 

“Well, last month, she got a write-up for stealing some morphine; her supervisor forced her to go see a therapist after Heather said that she was using it for some leftover pain she was experiencing after her miscarriage. But Heather never showed,” 

Spencer was walking a little further down the driveway as he listened to Garcia talk on the phone, counting the number of windows in the house. His eyes narrowed slightly to try and block out the sun before he looked away. He licked his bottom lip gently before acting on his little hunch, “Could you check her credit report? See if there are any purchases that you can find that seem odd around March third?” 

“Could I check her credit report,” Garcia repeated with a laugh, “Hold on, boy genius.” 

Spencer could see the top of JJ’s head from the bay window, and he turned away slightly, finding ease in the fact that she was still there. Something felt off, and he couldn’t put his finger on it. “She went to the store, but nothing crazy. Bought,” He could hear typing, “Bleach and rubbing alcohol.” 

Spencer chewed on the inside of his cheek as he asked, “When was her husband deployed again? Did she buy anything from a florist around Valentine’s Day?” 

“Husband was deployed December first and,” she hummed gently before she sighed, “Bought some flowers on Valentine’s day, rose petals.” 

Spencer felt that feeling when something connected in his brain, a rush of adrenaline as he felt his hunch slowly turn into a plausible accusation. The roses were just that, roses. But the bleach and rubbing alcohol? That’s a recipe for chloroform right there. And finally, Heather’s husband was deployed at the beginning of December, stressor number two. It made him feel slightly hopeful about walking back into the house. “Thanks, Garcia.” He said as his feet reached the end of the driveway. He hung up the phone, walking back towards the house at a fast pace when the familiar and startling 'crack' of a gun reached his ears. 

His hands drew his gun out of the holster, running back towards the house. He pushed the front door open with his foot as he heard the thumping of footsteps running on the stairs. He rounded the corner to the living room before lowering his gun as he saw JJ bleeding from a bullet wound in her thigh. 

“JJ!” His voice panicked as he reached her groaning side, kneeling low to the ground next to her. “What happened?” 

JJ shook her head quickly, “I’m calling for backup. She ran upstairs. She didn’t even try to,” her eyes squeezed shut tightly as a sharp pain rattled through her inner thigh, “Just go!” She urged him as she reached down for the phone in her back pocket, her free hand pressing on her gushing wound to try and slow the bleeding. 

Spencer’s eyes were filled with uncertainty as he let out a soft, “No, I’ll stay here until everyone gets-” 

“Spencer, go!” 

Spencer felt his spine straighten at the second command. He gave her a grim nod as he stood up, readied his gun, and started for the stairs. His footsteps were soft and calculated as he ascended, pink light flooding the floor as he approached the top of the stairs. He could hear gentle begging in a voice too soft and thick to be Heather’s. 

“Please, Heather, please, my love. Don’t, please don’t.” Repetitive cries for mercy made his legs move faster until he approached an opened door. The regular-looking bedroom door gave way to a steel one just behind it before revealing the scene of what looked like a demented love nest. 

Spencer swallowed a lump in his throat as he took in the scene. Gun pointed carefully at Heather as he spoke, “Heather, put down the gun. You love her. You don’t want to hurt her. You know that.” 

Heather jumped a little at the sound, her pistol clicking softly as her sweaty palms tightened their grip. She was quick to turn her body around to face him with the gun aimed directly at him as she spoke. “Don’t pretend like you know me or her. You don’t know our relationship. She wants this just as much as I do.” 

“You know she doesn’t look at her. Look at what you’re doing to her.” 

Heather’s eyes drifted to you, chained to the bed, watching as you hyperventilate softly. Heather felt her bottom lip quiver before she looked back at Spencer. “She’s just scared. You’re making me do this. She knows you’re making me do this.” 

Spencer’s eyes drifted to your crying form on the bed, trying to keep your sobs quiet as you stared at him with wild eyes. He glanced over at the morphine drip next to your bed before his eyes settled back on Heather. His lips parted to say something more, but she cut him off quickly, “Put your gun down, and I won’t do it.” 

Heather’s body language gives her away as she motions for him to put his gun down, her eyes crazed and large, her hands shaking and rigid against her pistol. “I’m not going to-” 

“Put your fucking, gun down, or she dies,” Heather yells so loud that it elicits a soft sob from your lips, your arms coming up to protect your head, ready for the shot to be administered and for your brains to be blown out in front of Spencer in that very moment. 

Spencer holds up both of his hands at that; he swears he can hear the soft sounds of sirens in the distance as he lowers his gun to the floor slowly, his foot gently kicking the gun away with a soft ‘clack.’

“Now you,” his calm voice says as he raises his hands, inching closer. Tears stream down Heather’s face now as she shakes her head gently. 

“I have to,” Is her tear-soaked reply as she keeps the barrel pointed at Spencer’s head, her fingers twitching lightly as they move for the trigger. Your shaking voice cuts through the scene, and Spencer is pretty sure it’s the only thing that is stopping him from diving for his gun a few feet from him. 

“Heather, baby,” Your voice betrays you as you speak the pet name, coming off a little too forced, but you continue anyway. “He can help. You don’t have to hurt anyone else. We can be happy, and we can get away. He can help, right?” Your arms relax around your head slowly as you look over at Spencer, who nods silently. 

“I can, but you have got to put your gun down.” 

Heather chokes out a strangled sob as she looks over at you, watching as you smile at her. You know it’s forced, but Heather can only view it as the prettiest thing she’s ever seen—a great parting gift. 

She feels spit thick on her tongue as she evaluates her options: kill Spencer and go to jail. Kill you, and she might not have enough time to kill herself. Killing herself seems like the best plan out of the three, so she holds her gun steady at Spencer as she looks at your now bleeding smile. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Her voice is soft, almost so human that you feel your heart clench in pity before that clenching feeling turns into pure anxiety as you see the movement of her arm. Spencer’s feet aren't quick enough for him to tackle her to the ground as Heather raises the gun to her temple and pulls the trigger. 

Her body drops to the edge of the bed, sliding down it as you feel blood coat your legs. Your ears are ringing, and your mouth is wide open as you scream. At least you think you’re screaming. You can’t hear much but a pathetic muffle of the sound as the ringing in your ears increases.

Your hands are quick to try and wipe off chunks of what looks to be part of a skull off of your exposed stomach, and you can’t seem to stop staring at Heather’s limp body at the edge of the bed. The image of her mangled head oozing blood has you gagging softly, feeling yourself getting ready to be sick before you feel two hands cup your face. 

You’re screaming or sobbing; you can’t tell anymore as Spencer Reid’s face blocks the view. He keeps your face steady in his hands as you try to read his lips, your breathing heavy as he strokes your hair gently. His voice creeps in through the ringing until you eventually hear the soft repetition of, “I got you, look at me. Just keep looking at me; you’re safe.”

You feel your breathing slow, your arms reaching up to grab him before your eyes roll back as your body slumps against Spencer’s, and everything is engulfed in black.

Tag List: @dollykisses4reid @babyspiderling @cocobean16 @kodzukenie333 @mmmunson

[jasmines-library]

Hi there! I absolutely adore the way you write and how you approach heavier topics. If it doesn’t bother you, could I request a Batfamily fic with reader who has an ED? I know a lot of people struggle with it and I feel like we all need a little affirmation sometimes. <3

Just The Way You Are

Warnings: Eating Disorders - please read with caution.

Word Count: 1.1k

Note: This one hit home hard. As someone who has struggled with and ED, I think it is important to raise awareness about them. Please note that this is based off off my personal experiences and from research. EDs present themselves in many different ways that vary for everyone. Please remember to be kind to yourself and others and if you are struggling and are able to, to reach out. I have linked some helplines below for those who are in need. Please remember that you are loved and you are perfect just the way you are. You are special. You are loved. You are unique. never let anyone take that away from you.

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

You hadn’t touched most of your food. It sat there getting cold as you pushed it around the porcelain listening to the way your fork scraped gratingly against the shiny surface. You had taken a few bites, longing to savour the taste of Alfred’s cooking as it melted on your tongue, but it didn’t seem to have the same effect anymore. You couldn’t bring yourself to bring anymore of the food to your lips. Even the smell began to make your stomach churn. And you felt so stupid as you sat there staring at the plate as everyone else delved in. In some ways that made you feel worse. But eating had begun to feel like a crime. 

When it first started, you never thought it would go this far. You just wanted to lose a little weight, to tone your stomach and your muscles just a little bit more. You weren’t even entirely sure why. Perhaps a cruel comment made in passing? It didn’t matter. But what did was the way that your mind seemed to wrack with cruel thoughts every time you looked in the mirror. Pointing out everything that seemed to be wrong. Or didn’t look like the models in the photos in Jason's magazines. 

So, you started cutting back. Just a little at first. Snacks in between meals. And you started working out more, trying to burn off calories faster. But when you checked the scales it felt like it wasn’t enough. When you looked in the mirror, your mind still screamed at you, replaying comments and thoughts in your mind like a broken record. They scratched away at you until soon you began to cut back on meals. Breakfast. Smaller portions at lunch and just a few bites here or there at dinner, so that your family wouldn’t suspect a thing. And still even that didn’t seem to be enough. You still felt wrong every time you glanced in the mirror. You still felt like your body wasn’t good enough. 

Soon they noticed. You were becoming more withdrawn, often slipping away into the bathrooms after meals. Often not at meals at all. You were sluggish too and seemed to lack the spark that you used to hold. They would ask you tenderly if you were okay, but most days you would scatter or pretend not to have heard them. And other days you would just tell them that you had already had something to eat. That you weren’t hungry.

And somehow lying to them made the situation feel so much worse. Like you were harming them as well as yourself. Your mind was a blur. Days seemed to pass by in some strange mess of time and the only thing that consumed thoughts were the lingering, cruel jests of your inner monologue. Sometimes, you begged for it to stop. You wanted to stop. But you couldn’t. Because you felt as though if you did you would feel disgusting. You would feel as though everything you had done had been for nothing. 

“Not hungry?” Tim asked from across beside you. You had zoned out, not sparing the rest of them aside as your mind wandered off on a tangent. 

“Hmm?” You frowned. “No. I had a big lunch not too long ago. It was stupid of me really, I should know better than to eat too close to dinner.”

Jason frowned. “You’ve been doing that a lot. Are you okay?”

“Mhm.” You hummed, keeping your eyes plastered on the table cloth, not daring to meet his gaze.

“I didn’t see you at breakfast either today Y/N.” Damian added. “Are you sure you’ve had enough to eat?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, swallowing down the anxiety that rose within you quickly. “I’ve already said I’m just not hungry.”

“You’re looking a little pale kiddo.” Dick said “I don’t want you getting sick. Why don’t you try and take a few more bites. It’ll help.”

And soon it all became too much. Everything seemed too much. Too bright, too loud, too hot. And a tear that had been threatening to spill from your eyes for weeks now finally slipped free of its cage. 

“I can’t.” 

It was a simple phrase, but your voice trembled. 

“Why not, kid? What’s the matter kiddo?” Jason asked calmly. 

“I just… I just can’t.” you sobbed. “Because if I eat then I feel like my body isn’t good enough! I don’t look like a model. Everytime I look in the mirror I see a body staring back at me that is mine, but it doesn’t feel like me. It doesn’t look like how I want it too. How it’s supposed to.”

They fell silent for a moment. But then Damian spoke up. 

“Oh Y/N/N… your body is beautiful.”

“Is that why you haven’t been eating?” Dick tilted his head.

You nodded meekly.

“Oh kid…you’re so perfect. You don’t need to change for anyone ever. Who cares what you look like?”

“Me! Everyone! I don’t know!” 

“We don’t care. We think you are beautiful just the way you are. You are perfect y/n, and we wouldn’t want you any different.” Tim told you gently, placing his hand atop of yours. 

“We love every inch of you. You are beautiful.”

You sniffled, wiping away your tears. 

“We’re sorry you couldn’t tell us how you feel. But we are here for you. Always.” Damian told you.

“We’re always going to be here kiddo. We’re here to help you. Here to love you.” Jason added. 

“We don’t know what we would do without you. It’s so important that you take care of yourself, beautiful.” Dick said. “And it will take time, as recovery does, but we’re going to be here to help you every step of the way.”

And they were true to their words. The four of them began to help you on your recovery journey. Often they would sit with you, taking small bites of food with you or offering you your favourite treats, reassuring you that it was okay. 

If you ever felt overwhelmed, they would wait with you, allowing you to take your time. 

Everyday they reminded you of how proud they were of you, even if you felt your progress had gone backward that day.  Because they truly were.

Often they would slip you notes. Sometimes they came under your door or were left by your bathroom mirror. You had quite the collection. Each one was different. A different reason why they loved you, or a reminder of how proud they were of you. Reminders that you are loved and you are beautiful just the way you are.

HELPLINES

BATFAM TAGLIST:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

@mamapucket

@hearts4robs

@harleycao

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

building a pillowfort

(cw: age gap 25/41, hints of smut, nsfw, mdni)

Most days we stay in, after I get back from work. Cooking something together if König didn’t do that already before or ordering some take-out.

Like that one time when we converted half the living room into a giant pillow fort. Using the couch as the base, blankets shielding the fort off, all of the comfy pillows we could find lying on the ground, so we would be comfortable. We even ordered from my favourite sushi place, although sushi isn’t really his thing because he doesn’t really like fish and also because he’d need to eat so much of it for his calorie intake that it is expensive.

He almost tears down the painstakingly constructed pillowfort when he takes a seat inside and leans back, his head getting stuck on one of the blankets. We can prevent the worst and the fort is saved, but he sits back a little wearily and I can’t hold back the laughter.

His tall stature in the flimsy construction looks almost comical, the big man in something so childish like a pillowfort makes my heart dance with joy. And it feels like this little date thing, not just a evening like every other, even when we were just staying in.

We eat, sitting in our comfortable fort, and watch Scream, the original one from ’96. We both have seen it a bunch of times already. I mean, it’s a classic, right? I still flinch every time there is a loud noise or a jumpscare. And König laughs every time, his hearty chuckles making me look at him, because I can’t get enough of how his face lights up when he’s smiling bright, even at my expense.

"Aww, poor thing.", he coos with pretend pity.

"Shut up.", I tell him, equally pretending to be pouty, nudging him with my elbow.

His huge arms are closing around me as he pulls me into him, my cheek landing on his huge pec. I just love when he does that. The simple one-sided hug sitting next to each other, our size difference meaning that my face would get pressed into his chest, his calming scent engulfing me. When I’m snuggled against him like that, everything seems a little more like it’s going to be okay.

"Come here, I'll protect you from Ghostface.", he says, his voice beaming with protectiveness while I see the spark of mischief in his eyes as he is grinning down at me.

"You're so stupid.", I mutter, nuzzling into his shirt. He just laughs again, cuddling me closer.

The movie is quickly forgotten about because of course our hands start to wander. And it doesn’t take more than a few strokes over his bulge, that looks really delicious in his black sweatpants by the way, until his hand catches my wrist and turns the teasing touches around on me.

I shake with laughter as the whole pillowfort crashes down around us with the first few pushes of his dick into me, the blankets covering us – mostly hanging off of his head and shoulders. The fort is now completely destroyed, a grumpy expression on his face while he gets rid the blankets, cursing and grumbling.

“Wir kinan nur froh sei, dass i koa Maurer wordn bin.“ (We can count ourselves lucky that I didn’t become a mason.)

He mutters something to himself in his funny language while he makes sure that everything is out of the way and me comfortable and warm underneath himself, not willing to leave my warm wet pussy to do any of that. Kissing my face all over, starting to fuck me again with deep hard strokes, until the grin on my lips turns into an O, soft moans escaping my throat.

~ More in the Masterlist ~

[writingduhh]

either ted or schlatt when reader gets their period?

- ⁉️, could I be an anon?

But of course my love! I hope you enjoy! ❤️

Also I’m open for requests! Preferably HC, Mood-boards, and longer fanfics for the chuckle sammy boys!

Chuckle Sandwich ||Time Of The Month (HC)

❥ Jschlatt

▷ I feel like he’s the type of boyfriend who would be a little uncomfortable, at least at first. Not because he thinks it’s gross or makes him uncomfortable, more like he doesn’t want to mess up or accidentally upset you (plus he only has a brother) .

▷ However, he’s very willing to learn. Especially if it means being able to take care of the love of his life. ;)

▷ Finding things in his search history such as, “How to help partner on period?”, “How to stop cramps?”, “Why do periods happen?”

▷ Let’s you use him as a human punching bag if you need to release some anger.

“We really need to get you some boxing lessons, doll…”

▷ Offers you his hoodies/sweatshirts. He wants you to be as comfy as possible. Plus, he loves to see you in his clothes, ofc

▷ He’d probably make you a whole blanket nest on the couch. Complete with pillows, snacks, and him waiting to cuddle with you

▷ Uses this time as an excuse to lay with you all day. (Totally not an excuse to be lazy… It definitely is)

▷ Suggests using the cats as ‘natural heating pads’ or just holding them like a stuffed animal

▷ He insists on going to the store himself to get you pads or tampons, so you can ‘rest.’

“Babe what size do you wear?“

“What do you mean the S stands for super?”

▷ Spends about 20 mins just reading the boxes or looking up reviews online He wants to make sure he gets the best products for you.

▷ Ends up buying 3 different strengths/sizes, plus a little treat for you.

“Thanks so much for going to the store for me… is this beef jerky?”

“Well, I assumed that you might be craving something to snack on… So, I just guessed and got you my favorite thing.” He explains, kissing your forehead.

▷ It’s the thought that counts, right? 😭😭

▷ Definitely babies you. He won’t let you get anything yourself. Definitely the Princess treatment 💅

❥ Ted

▷ I feel like Ted is the type of boyfriend that is very knowledgeable about periods. So needless to say he’s very on-top of things.

▷ Keeps a stash of your products under the sink “Just In Case.” Probably even keeps an extra clothes for you as well. (Or just insists you borrow his)

▷ Very understanding of your mood swings, pains, and every other symptom periods have (rip)

▷ He’s always there when you need him. A shoulder to cry on, he’s right there. Someone to rant to, he’s listening. Someone to just hold you, his arms are wide open.

▷ Literally your professional teddy bear

▷ There's a good chance he secretly keeps track of your cycle. (I low-key could see this) This way he knows whatever phase you’re in and how best to help you.

▷ Seems to always be learning some new techniques or ‘hacks’ in order to help you.

“I saw this video on how to massage out cramps. Can I try?”

“Can I try to find the pressure points that help cramps? I watched a video on it.”

▷ Let’s be real, it’s mainly an excuse just to touch you.

▷ Cooks all your favorite meals and makes sure you’re eating enough calories/protein.

▷ Essentially he gives you the princess treatment. You don’t have to even lift a finger.

[prettieinpink]

do you have a diet guideline and exercise routine? i'm having trouble figuring out what exactly i should be eating aside from people's vague "fiber and vegetables or whatever". And finding an exercise routine that works and i can actually make myself stick with and keep myself motivated with. Any tips/advice? thanks!

CREATING DIET & EXERCISE GUIDELINES

CREATING YOUR DIET

Determine how many calories you need daily. Your daily caloric intake depends on your age, sex, weight, height, and activity level. Some online calculators can help you with like this. However, if you’re calculating it, make sure to consider your activity levels.

Then, determine how much of what nutrients you need. If you’re lacking in one, you may want to increase the intake of that nutrient. Or, if you think you eat too much of it, you may decrease this. 

The best way to find out what nutrients you need is by a calculator. However, the best form of action is to ask your GP what they advise you. Here are the formulas;

Calculate your protein intake 10-30% of total calories (for adults)

Amount of fats - 20-35% of total calories (for adults)

Consumption of carbohydrates 45-65% of total calories

Recommended water intake 1 kcal = 1 mL

Number of grams of fibre Fiber = (kcal/1000) × 14

Limit processed foods, sodium, sugars and saturated fats as much as you can. While it is okay to eat them in moderation, they shouldn’t be a part of your daily diet.

To create healthy meals that are suited to you, consider your daily lifestyle and what times you feel hungry the most. While I cannot speak for your needs, this is typically what your meals should look like.

BREAKFAST - Breakfast should not be anything processed or fatty. It is the meal you break your 8-hour fast with, and it is the energy you use for the rest of the day. 

The most ideal breakfast is one that is protein-rich, as it can help you be more productive throughout the day. 

LUNCH - A lean, light but colourful meal is best suited for lunch. This shouldn’t be too filling, but enough so it can sustain your hunger until dinner. 

Lunch should be a meal that has lots of veggies or fruits that can energise you as well. 

DINNER - I don’t want to sound forceful, but dinner should be your healthiest meal. This is the energy that your body uses to recover and heal from the day you’ve just had. 

It should be balanced with complex carbs, vegetables and proteins. However, for dinner, it is advised that you either eat early or eat small. 

SNACKS - Light snacks that are filling. Avoid snacks in which you mindlessly eat them, those are the type of snacks which are most likely not good for you and you’ll end up overeating. Fruits are the best choice here. 

This is a diagram I use often to measure how much food I need to eat without weighing them or counting calories. To be precise;

Vegetables or/and fruit should be ½ of your plate

Proteins should be ¼ of your plate

Grains/Carbs should be ¼ of your plate. 

Adjust this to your liking, but I thought it would help you. 

CREATING YOUR EXERCISE GUIDELINES

This is a process that does not happen overnight, even if you want to start running kilometres a day if you’re living a sedentary life currently, that is not possible. 

Start by finding small intervals in your day to exercise, experimenting around and documenting how each one makes you feel. For now, just try to figure out what you like and form the consistency, 

Then, once you get the hang of exercising regularly, you get to make your own rules. For example, your rest days, how many minutes or hours, what you do that day etc. 

Exercise is just another way to fuel your body, and you only know your body and what feels good for it. So I cannot provide any further advice than this. Make sure to start slowly though. 

[veren-cos]

Bachelors (Sdv) x gn!Anorexic Reader

Tw for anorexia, mentions of purging, poor self image, and weight loss. If you struggle with an eating disorder please reach out for help. Things will be okay, and you can get through it.

Another note, this fic (even tho almost all of mine are) is gender neutral. There is this stereotype that only girls can have eating disorders, but this is not true. Anyone can get an eating disorder and everyone deserves comfort.

This is proofread / sensitivity read (Is that the word?)and requested by @vvnbxz (tysm!!!)

Sam

• If you told Sam you had anorexia he wouldn't know what the hell to do.

• Honestly if you opened up to him about anything to do with mental health he wouldn't know what to do.

• And it isn't that he doesn't try, it's just that he doesn't know. (He is just a clueless guy and that's okay/hj)

• But yeah, when you tell him he is just so worried. He noticed as a general statement you didn't eat a lot, but he thought you just had a low appetite.

• So he never thought too much of it, unless it was the days you didn't eat anything.

• On one of those days, he finally asked about it. When you told him you had anorexia, he just looked. So sad.

• "Babe I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't notice. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. But I will be now. What do you need?"

• If you need comfort, he is there the whole time. Whispering sweet nothings into your ear. "You are beautiful babe. How on earth did ever land someone like you?" (He is still a skater boy haha)

• If you need structure and legitimate help, he will be asking and researching. He asks Harvey how to help someone with Anorexia, and Google became his best friend. Though Google was a tad unreliable, you appreciated the effort.

• Overall, he just wants to be there for you, and will do his damned best to make sure you feel better.

Sebastian

• This is going to sound off topic but it's relevant I promise!!

• Sebastian is online a lot, okay? He almost definitely uses discord. At one point he was in a mental health server because he was really struggling and was just trying to find resources to help himself right?

• Well there was a channel in there about eating disorders, and while he didn't personally have one, he kinda just lurked in the server and read about everything.

• So Sebastian has a really large amount of knowledge in almost any mental health topic! And knows where to look for more info, and has heard personal storied. (Yay context is over with now onto the actual thing-)

• When you tell Sebastian you have anorexia, he is probably the calmest put of all of the Bachelors.

• He saw the signs, but recognized that it was still your business, and you were not in a desperate situation where he would have to step in. So he waited for you to tell him, while keeping an eye to make sure things didn't get any worse.

• Back to when you tell him though, he holds your hand and just pulls you into a hug. He offers to make food more often so you don't have to think about it.

• He tries to make sure it's lighter stuff, and doesn't overwhelm you with anything.

• He watches out for signs of it getting worse, and checks in with you often about how you are doing, and if there is anything more he can do to help.

• He understands that anorexia affects your entire life, but he knows that it is your life. He respects your boundaries, basically. He wants you to he in full control of your recovery, with him just helping you along the way.

• He encourages you to go to therapy. He sets you up with an tele-health therapist, and he gives you a bunch of online resources for when he isn't around.

• Overall, Sebastian is really sweet about it, and just tries to be helpful.

Alex

• He would unknowingly make things worse at first.

• When you get together for sure, but especially when you move in together. He definitely counts calories to make sure he is getting enough for whatever sport thing he is doing, and when he tried to encourage you to join it brings back some old habits.

• After a month or so of living together, Alex notices you've been loosing way too much weight. So he asks about it.

• He thought you were doing an extremely unhealthy diet, so when he did ask you about it he was not expecting this to be a long time issue.

• When you tell him that you have anorexia, he immediately apologizes for asking bluntly.

• "No, no. Alex it's fine. I should have told you."

• He takes a pause because he knows he has to be careful now. "..why didn't you?" It was so quiet.

• "I just couldn't Alex!" That came out louder than you meant it.

• "You are so perfect and really damn.. I dont even know you just.. I'm jealous of you. You have everything under control all the time. And I see how much effort you put into keeping it up that I didn't feel like I could stand next to you! I feel gross, food makes me feel gross. And I didn't want to burden you with this. Nothing in my life is going right right now. And this is the one thing I can make go right. But apparently I can't because I'm screwing this up too!"

• You pulled your hands to your face and broke down sobbing.

• Alex pulled you onto a hug. "Shhh, shhh" he strokes your hair. "Your going to be okay? I'm sorry. I didn't realize that I was making you feel like that."

• You shot up. "No don't apologize! You aren't doing anything wrong, I'm the one who needs to get things together!"

• "But I should have been more considerate! I should have seen!"

• Both of you took a second to calm down.

• After a moment, Alex spoke again, "what can I do to help you?"

• And you didn't know. You didn't know anything.

• "Alex I don't know. I didn't even think this was going to come back again I don't even know how I dealt with it the first time."

• He let out a breath. "Okay. I'm not changing what I'm doing, because I know that will just make you feel guilty. But I won't talk about it okay? I'll move the scale outside somewhere else. And I'm going to check in with you every once in a while. Okay?"

• You nodded.

• "I don't know what I can do to help, but I will not be giving you more to overtime about. You are perfect just the way you are. You don't need to change, your body is perfect. Okay?"

• You nodded again. This time it was you pulling him into a hug.

• "Okay. Okay yeah we can do this. Thank you." The last words came so softly that you just hoped Alex heard.

• "Of course, anything for you."

Harvey

• Harvey had seen the signs well before you confirmed his suspicions.

• He noticed you leaving very shortly after dinner dates, how you avoided mirrors when getting ready.

• He had known you for a long time now and he could see that you had lost weight, and not at a normal rate.

• After you moved in together, things became blaringly obvious.

• One morning he woke up to the sound of you throwing up.

• That's when everything became real.

• He walked to the bathroom and knocked on the door. "My love? Can I come in?"

• "NO!" You coughed, "no, no I'm fine it's okay."

• "Dear we have to talk about this."

• "No we don't, I'm fine. I just wasn't feeling good."

• You went back and forth on this for a while, but eventually he just came in.

• "My love, we just moved in together. I am very serious about this relationship. This means we have to tell each other when things aren't okay. Okay?"

• You thought for a moment. "Harvey, you're a doctor. You are just going to go on a medical spiel if I talk to you. I already know what's wrong. I'm handling it."

• He sighed, "I don't mean to be blunt, but clearly you aren't. All you have is protein shakes in your fridge, you can't live off of those. And I'm assuming you do this every morning? You can't be drinking those and then throwing them up. It defeats the purpose of drinking in the first place."

• "But I have to! I have to do this Harvey. This is the one thing in my life I have control over I have to do this."

• "No, you don't! Dear, I can help you, you just have to let me! You have full control over your life. Let me be here for you"

• You sat there. Just thinking. Harvey had no idea how what he said would land. Would you get upset? Would you lash out? Cry?

• "Okay." You whispered

• He stared at you.

• "I said okay!" You were nearly shouting. "Help me! I know this isn't okay but I need help!"

• Oh thank yoba you listened. "Thank you. Now, please just listen to me. Please." He waited for a nod of recognition before continuing,

• "I'm making all the food from here on out. And I dont care what you say because you are not burdening anyone. You aren't going to look at any labels, I'll scratch them out if you need me too.

• "I'll make a meal chart for each week, and you don't have to eat all of it, but you need to eat something. Eating something is better than nothing, I don't care what it is."

• This was already making you nervous. It was all too much, but if nothing else you had to try for him.

• "Okay.. okay. Okay yeah... thank you."

• He gave you a big hug.

• "I'm here for you with this. You don't have to do this alone."

Shane

• Shane is not perfect by any means, we all know this.

• But one thing I will stand on is that, if y'all are dating, he will stand with you through any mental health crisis no problems.

• He probably wouldn't notice much of the mental signs, but would notice you loosing weight.

• He tried to ask you about it a few times, but you always brushed it off.

• He let it be until you literally fainted from lack of food intake.

• He rushed you to Harvey's and honestly just hoped you would finally open up to him about what was going on.

• Harvey had already known you had an eating disorder because it was in your file, so when you woke up, he strongly encouraged you to talk to Shane about it.

• Shane was chill enough to at least wait until you had gotten home to talk about it.

• ...

• "So what the hell was that?" He asked.

• "Shane, I'm sorr-"

• "No, don't be sorry that's not what I'm asking for. I'm asking what that was." He stared you down.

• "Shane.." You sighed. You had meant to tell him but everything you tried, something got in the way.

• "Shane, I have anorexia. I'm not going to make it into a big thing. I mean, I guess I already did because I literally fainted. But I want you to know that I am working on it."

• "And you didn't tell me, because.? Babe, we all have our issues we are going through. I want to be there for you but I can't be if you don't tell me."

• "It was hard, That's why. I know you don't care, but I care so much as to what others think of me. About what I think of me. I dont like the way I feel. The way I look. I just always compare myself to others and I don't like it. I'm not asking for help and I certainly don't want it but I think I might need it at this point."

• He sighed, and had both of you sit down. "Okay.. okay, thank you for telling me. Now that the hard part is over, here is the harder part. We are getting you into therapy. It might be uncomfortable. But it will help. I know it helps me. And I know I can't do anything personally, but talk to me if anything is going on. I'm here to listen, okay?"

• He doesn't tend to be one for random physicaly affection, but he pulls you into a tight hug.

• He really meant every word, so from then on you became more dependent on him like he was on you.

Elliott

• Elliott. Oh Elliott.

• He knew something was up right when you started going out.

• You never ate much, never drank much. It looked like you felt food and taking care of yourself was a burden.

• So once you got married and moved in together, he knew he had to confront you about it.

• "My love?" He knocked on the door to your room. You were in your pajamas getting ready for bed.

• "Yes?" You smiled softly at him.

• "We need to talk." Your face dropped. Elliott tended to have a way with words but he became far less eloquent under stress. "Not in a we need to talk, my dear. Apologies." He cleared his throat,

• "I've noticed your. Ehm. Unusual? Eating habits?" And your face dropped more.

• "Oh Ellio-"

• "Hold on." He reached for your hand, cupping it between his. "I'm not upset with you. There is no reason to be. But I think I know what is going on, and I just want you to know. I am here for you. Alright, love? You can talk to me, and I can help. Food can become a stressor for the best of us. So you don't have to talk to me now, but just know I'm here for when you need."

• You met his hands with the one left on the bed. "I'm not sure if what your thinking is entirely accurate? But I suppose I should clarify." You took a deep breath, "I have anorexia. I've been managing it, at least what I thought was, pretty well. I didn't think you would notice, but I guess it was something I should tell you. I just.. I just didn't have control over much in my life when I worked for Joja. So food was a thing I could control! I thought it helped. But it didn't."

• You continued, "When I moved here, things genuinely became better! I have full control over my life. How I run the farm. My time, my pace. But I became so dependent on my food patterns for regulation that it was just a habbit I couldn't give up. So now here we are!" You let out a dry laugh.

• Elliott wasn't going to make a big deal out of it, despite his general dramatics.

• He knew that it was hard for you, but from what you said, you were working so hard on your own to help yourself.

• He reassured you that he would be there if you needed it, and tried to make sure you were eating a good amount of food everyday. But life continued on as normal for you two, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

An* so this was a deep one, I personally do not have anorexia but a lot of this still resonated with me for other reasons. Please reach out to either a doctor, family member, or friend if you think you have an eating disorder. They are serious business.

Also. I tried to make it accurate to anorexia but my knowledge isn't all encompassing, so it might have slipped into general eating disorder territory. So if it doesn't line up perfectly, I'm sorry about that- I also tried to not make it stereotypical but there may be a varying amount of success with that. Please lmk!!

Less serious an* I really wrote so much for Harvey I was not expecting to be able to write this much- Harvey's might as well have been it's own little fic from how long it was.

Masterlist

[merrybloomwrites]

You Can Start a Family (Extra: Getting High)

Summary: Y/N's never tried weed before, and has an interesting night trying it for the first time with the three people she loves and trusts the most.

AN: This is a story about people getting high, written by someone who's never been high. I did a fair amount of research, so I hope it's accurate enough to what people experience lol

Previous Chapters:

Main Story: One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six ; Seven ; Eight ; Nine ; Ten

Sickfic Part 1 ; Part 2

Mitchrry Prequel

Fan Reactions

Holiday Blues

Mitchryy Reunion

Word Count: 2.8K

CW: Mentions of smut & daddy kink; drug use

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s a perfect Friday morning. You’re sitting at the kitchen table of your LA home with Sarah, Mitch, and Harry. Sarah had surprised you all with a full English breakfast “just because” and you’re enjoying every delicious bite.

It’s so good that everyone is practically silent, no one wants to take a break from eating to say anything. You’re the first to get full so you decide to start up some conversation. There’s something you’ve been wanting to ask them but have been too shy to actually voice your question.

Deciding to finally go for it, you break the silence saying, “What’s it like to get high?”

Simultaneously, all three of them stop mid chew to stare at you, completely caught off guard by your question.

Harry composes himself first and after finishing his bite of food he says, “Well it depends on what drug you’ve taken.” You’re grateful for the way he responded, showing that they’ll take the conversation seriously and not as a joke.

It’s no secret that he and Mitch have done a couple different drugs in the past. It’s common knowledge that “She” was written by Mitch while he was under the influence of psychedelic drugs. And everyone’s heard the story of Harry biting off part of his tongue while high on mushrooms.

Harry has also mentioned having done coke once or twice, and that admittedly makes you a little nervous. You went through the DARE program growing up where you’d been taught that all drugs will ruin your life and kill you. So while you never judge others for occasionally getting a little high, it does make you somewhat nervous that something bad could happen when they do.

You voice your concerns to them, and they talk you through what drugs they’ve tried, what it was like, and how they ensure their safety while under the influence. By the end you’re feeling better about everything.

But you notice one thing they left out.

“And what about weed?” You ask.

“What about it?” Mitch asks.

“What are you guys like when you smoke it? Eat it? Whatever you all do with pot,” you clarify.

“The boys prefer to smoke,” Sarah answers, “And I don’t like smoking, so I’ll have some edibles if I want to participate.”

“We all get pretty mellow,” Mitch says to answer your question.

“You can be more mellow?” You inquire jokingly, referring to his generally calm demeanor.

“He just sits there all smiley,” Harry says.

Sarah laughs and adds, “Yea, until he starts getting extra horny.”

You blush thinking about what that must be like and then ask, “What about you two? What are you guys like?”

“Sarah gets very giggly. And chatty,” Mitch answers. “And Harry gets the munchies.”

“Seriously?” You ask. Harry, the person in this relationship who is most regimented about what he eats and rarely ever snacks, gets the munchies?

“Oh, for sure,” Harry answers. “All bets are off when I’m high. Calories don’t count,” he finishes with a shrug.

“I wonder what I’d be like,” you say quietly.

“Y/N, do you want to try it? We’d all be with you, make sure nothing happens,” Sarah says.

You sit silently for a moment, debating what to say. This was another goal of yours for this conversation. You want to try getting high, especially with the three of them, who you trust more than anyone. You had been offered weed at a couple parties before, and always turned it down, nervous that something could go wrong. But here? With Sarah, and Mitch, and Harry? Well, that sounds like it could actually be fun.

You nod and say, “Yea, I kind of do want to try.”

“Okay,” Harry says. “We can make that happen.”

After that, the conversation turns to other topics as you finish eating and cleaning up breakfast. Harry spends a good chunk of the day writing. Mitch helps him but heads to the grocery store in the afternoon. Meanwhile, you and Sarah work in the garden, getting it ready to put in some new plants.

Happy with your progress for the day, you head inside to take a shower. When you’re done and dressed you walk down to the living room where Sarah, also freshly showered, and Harry and sitting together on the couch. You join them, sitting beside Harry. He talks a bit about what he worked on so far and then you finally hear the door opening, alerting you all that Mitch has returned from the store.

All three of you join him in the kitchen, helping to put the groceries away. You get to one bag that looks different from the others, like it came from a different store, but it still just seems to contain some different snacks, namely chocolates and some gummy candies. You get a closer look and notice the little leaf symbol on all of the packages.

“Uhm, Mitch? What is this?” You know what it is, or at least, you’re mostly sure, but it feels like a good idea to actually confirm.

He looks over to see what you’re holding and smirks before saying, “Well that would be weed. Figured it wouldn’t hurt to grab some after our talk this morning.”

“Can we try it?”

“Sure,” he replies.

“Tonight?” You ask.

“Are you sure?” Sarah confirms.

“I mean, it seems like a good time. We have a free weekend, which never happens. And I don’t want to overthink it more than I already have.”

“Ok,” Harry responds. “After dinner if you still want to then these will be our dessert,” he says, taking the bag of goodies from you and putting it in a cabinet, far away from the rest of the snacks.

“Sorry it’s only edibles,” Mitch says to Harry. “Sarah doesn’t smoke, and I didn’t think Y/N would either. And you don’t like smoking alone so, yea.”

“Are you not joining us?” Sarah asks.

“Not this time, I want to stay sober just in case.”

“Look at you, going into daddy mode,” Harry jokes.

There’s a flicker in Mitch’s eyes at that, something you’ve never seen before. “Haven’t heard that nickname in a long time,” Mitch says.

“You haven’t earned it,” Harry replies, tone definitely cheeky, and a little suggestive. You tuck the encounter away in your mind, making a note to ask them about whatever that just was at another time.

Now that everything seems to be decided, you turn to start making dinner. With the prospect of a new experience on the horizon you need to do something that’s familiar to you. Sarah helps you cook, and the boys clean up after.

Once everyone is in comfy clothes you meet up back in the living room. Mitch is holding the chocolate bar and gives you a look before asking, “Still want to try this?”

“I do,” you reply. You’re excited, even if you’re slightly nervous about how you might act or if you might say something stupid while under the influence.

“Alright,” he replies.

Mitch opens the package, breaking off three pieces and handing one to each of you. He then passes the rest to Harry, saying, “You might want one more in a bit. It’s a pretty low dose.”

You pop the chocolate in your mouth, a thrill going through you at doing something you’ve always been told was dangerous. It’s silly to feel this way, knowing now that the likelihood of this having any type of negative outcome is extremely slim, but it still feels almost reckless in an exciting way.

Nothing happens for a bit, but you expected that. Harry ends up taking one more piece, and you wonder if you should as well. Before you can even ask, Mitch says, “No more for you, give it time.”

Sarah adds, “It’ll kick in soon, trust me.”

And she isn’t wrong. You don’t notice it happening, but eventually you feel different. Your body feels kind of tingly, and you’re smiling but you don’t really know why.

The next thing you know, you and Sarah are discussing the garden at length. The area you have set aside is totally not big enough. You need way more space so you can grow veggies and berries and like, three orange trees so you can make your own orange juice every morning. Harry gets up no less than five times to retrieve snacks from the kitchen and you discover you’re actually starving, which is weird because wasn’t dinner an hour ago? You’re never hungry so soon after a meal.

Some more time apparently passes, and you and Sarah are now laughing at a story Harry’s telling about his craziest fan encounter.

Suddenly you remember a comment from earlier and turn to Mitch. He’s sitting next to you on the couch, completely entertained by the antics of the three of you and doesn’t miss when your attention focuses on him.

When you don’t say anything for over a minute he gives you a confused look and says, “Can I help you?”

“Why did Harry call you daddy earlier?” You ask.

At this question both Mitch and Harry blush. BLUSH. You don’t think you’ve ever seen that before.

Mitch looks at your doe eyed, innocent expression and thinks for a minute how he’s going to explain this to you. He sometimes forgets that all your sexual experience has been with him, and there’s a lot you’re unfamiliar with. Sure, the fact that you have sex with three people at once might seem adventurous, but the sex you all have tends to be mostly very vanilla. Mitch watches your inquisitive expression as he figures out the best way to explain daddy kinks and dom/sub dynamics to you.

He decides to start by asking you, “Have you heard of daddy kinks before?”

Your eyes go wide as you realize that this is going down a sexual route. Sarah starts giggling next to you at your reaction and you pout before saying, “Don’t laugh at me, you know I was sheltered!”

“I don’t mean to, you’re just so adorable when you're all shocked and naive,” she replies.

Sarah then shifts on the couch so she’s laying sideways, her back against the armrest. She pulls you to her, so your back is against her chest. Mitch slides closer and Harry takes the seat next to him. You and Sarah both stretch out your legs over Mitch’s lap until your feet rest on Harry. You feel all warm inside, getting to be in contact with all three of them.

“Sorry for laughing,” Sarah says quietly in your ear. “You know how much we love teaching you new things.” You shutter involuntarily at her suggestive tone. She wraps her arms around your middle as Mitch says, “You never answered my question.”

“There was a question?” You say and start giggling. You search your fuzzy brain, trying to remember what he asked you, then trying to remember what you guys were even talking about.

“I asked you if you knew what a Daddy kink is,” he says, watching you closely in case you had another entertaining reaction.

This time your face goes serious, and Mitch can literally see the wheels turning in your mind as you come up with an answer.

After a literal minute of thinking you reply with a decisive, “No.”

“Okay. So, a common misconception is that someone with a daddy kink has daddy issues. And that could be the case for some people but that’s not really what it is. It’s about power dynamics. Like one person gives over control to the other person. And the one with control would be considered daddy.”

“Mitch, that was a fucking terrible explanation,” Harry says. “Y/N, did that make sense to you?”

“Not really, no.”

Sarah decides to take over and says, “Do you remember the night after one of the Wembley shows when we teased you on the ride home?” You immediately remember what she’s talking about and a shutter of pleasure runs through your body at the memory. “And when we got back to the room we edged you even more and wouldn’t let you come? And then made you come multiple times until you passed out?”

“Holy shit,” Harry says. “Why have I never asked about things you did before I joined? Fuck, that sounds hot.”

You blush at the memory and Sarah continues, saying, “That night, Mitch and I had the power. We were in control of your pleasure. You trusted us to take care of you. That’s what a dom/sub dynamic is about. And there’s different titles that doms go by, like sir and ma’am or daddy and mommy. Depends on personal preference.”

“And Mitch prefers daddy?” You ask. He huffs out a laugh and looks visibly flustered at this question, so you say, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Oh, he for sure prefers daddy,” Harry adds. “The first time I let it slip out, he came instantaneously.” Your body starts to heat up and you squirm in Sarah’s lap as Harry continues, “I’d asked him to restrain me and just take what he wanted. He went full daddy mode and didn’t even realize. One of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced.”

You can’t sit still any longer, so you move, your limbs uncoordinated due to the drugs and lust clouding your mind, but you finally succeed in straddling Mitch’s lap.

“I wanna do that,” you say.

“Do what exactly?” Mitch presses.

“I dunno. Everything. Anything you guys want to do. I want to give up control,” you answer.

“Darling, I don’t think you’ve ever been in control in bed,” Sarah says with another giggle.

“Okay but like, I wanna do it legit. Please, daddy?” You say with puppy dog eyes looking right at Mitch.

He groans, and you think you’re getting your way, so you move to kiss him and grind down in his lap. His hands grip your waist and frustratingly, they stop your movements.

“Look at me, baby,” he says, and your eyes dart back to meet his. “We can try it, but not now.”

“Why not?” You whine.

“Because you’re high and can’t fully consent. We all have to be sober to do this the right way. And there’s a lot we need to talk about first. We need to discuss limits, safe words, things like that. Okay?”

“Fine. But I won’t forget this.”

“Trust me babe, neither will I,” he replies, nipping at your ear and you give him a dirty look for teasing you.

“Now, why don’t we watch a movie?” Mitch suggests.

“Emperor's New Groove!” You immediately shout.

“What’s that one about?” Harry asks.

“Seriously? You’ve never seen it?” He shakes his head no and you look at the other two who confirm they’d never watched it either.

“NONE of you have seen Emperor's New Groove? That’s a fucking travesty.” They all burst into laughter since you never curse but this seems to be high enough stakes to earn the explicit word.

“We are watching it. Right now.” You jump off the couch, stumbling across the room to grab the remote. You plop back into Sarah’s lap, legs outstretched over the boys, and concentrate on putting the movie on.

Before you press play you say, “I have one very important question.”

“And what would that be, love?” Harry asks.

“Are there more snacks?”

Without a word he gets up and makes a trip to the kitchen, bringing back an assortment of treats.

You grab some of the chocolates and start the movie.

You’re all a giggling mess watching the movie, and you’re starting to get very sleepy by the time it’s over. Mitch has his work cut out for him, rounding the three of you up and helping you all get ready for bed. You cooperate with brushing your teeth and washing your face, but refuse to put pants on, arguing that it’s too warm and all you want is one of Harry’s t-shirts. You also refuse to walk from the bathroom to the bedroom, and Mitch steps in before Sarah can try picking you up while she’s still unsteady herself.

You’re basically dead weight in Mitch’s arms, and you laugh uncontrollably when he gently throws you onto the mattress. The night ends with all four of you together in bed, exchanging “I love you” back and forth repeatedly.

You fall asleep on top of Mitch, and he thinks back to how the evening went. He can’t help but smile at the fact that high Y/N is basically a combination of the other three when high. You laugh and talk uncontrollably like Sarah, snack like Harry, and get a bit more horny than usual like Mitch.

And he certainly won’t forget the conversation you’d had any time soon. He hopes the rest of you won’t either. As he strokes your hair and looks fondly at Sarah and Harry sleeping at his sides, he feels like today was a perfect day. And he can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Thank you so much for reading! Requests are open so if you want to see anything specific, let me know!

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[lexithevalkyrie]

Fat tip number 6: gains with grains!

As mentioned in a previous post, an important factor for you death fatties is to eat up carbs as you can easily eat over 600g in a day, your body burns 370g so the rest is likely to be made into fat.

So you may be wondering, what carbs should I be eating? Well that is simple, foods like pizza, fried food, sweet bread, and milk based drinks are the most common to have high carbs. Example, a large oreo milkshake from sonic is around 1k calories with more than 70% of it being carbs. My personal recommendation for drinking your carbs will be: milk shakes, processed juice, soft drinks, and beers. For eating, I would recommend: fried food, pizza, bread products, and chips. For the most part this is a very straightforward route as you get to have all the fatty foods you want.

For the health fatties, you don't get that luxury, but we do have access to grains and other carbs. For your main foods, things like oats, wheat bread, whole grain, and fruits give a good amount of carbs for you, and it's much healthier. But for the ratio you need, this is more than enough to meet the 15% ratio for the diet. I do recommend counting your meals in a calorie counter to make sure you are following proper ratios, I recommend the lose it app to help guide you.

[sixth-light]

(tws ahead: discussion of food, diets and diet culture, eating disorders, calorie counts, and fatphobia in the context of pregnancy)

Truly one of the most bizarre things about being pregnant has been the official advice around food. Food and eating is difficult enough already when you're pregnant - there's excellent scientific evidence that it's advisable to moderate your caffeine intake and avoid alcohol, and an entire laundry list of stuff you're supposed to avoid for food safety/food poisoning risk reasons. (I am a nerd and I read the last scientific review of the linked advice from the NZ Ministry of Health, so I can say with confidence it's also pretty well supported.) Personally, I am largely indifferent to going without alcohol, but after half a year or so my brie cravings are getting pretty intense. That's going to be even tougher for people with food restriction issues. And then there's the potential nutrient deficiencies that come when a baby is sucking up all your available iron, calcium, etcetera.

But on top of all this...a couple of things are also true:

later pregnancy and breastfeeding require a higher calorie intake because you're, uh, feeding an entire baby with your body and those calories have to come from somewhere

healthy pregnancy also requires weight gain because of the aforementioned 'growing an entire person' thing

Western Anglophone society absolutely loses its goddamn mind at the thought of telling women (and other pregnant people, but they are clearly not thinking that far) that it's okay for them to eat more than normal, let alone gain weight

So there's reams and reams of official advice which has like one line saying "maybe don't diet when you're pregnant" quickly followed by "but it's OK! you can diet afterwards! you'll lose lots of weight when you breastfeed!" and then like. eight paragraphs on how while technically, they suppose you need some extra calories during some of your pregnancy, it is DEEPLY IMPORTANT that those calories only come from the most healthy and boring possible foods, because otherwise you might gain too much weight which is the worst possible thing that could happen. Try carrot sticks! Fat-free yoghurt! Dry toast! I have literally seen advice suggesting the extra calories you need can be gained from a "small snack". Maybe an apple. (Most of the estimates I've seen about extra calorie needs in later pregnancy are in the range of 3-400 extra calories a day. That apple would have to be the size of your head.) This is all followed up with dire warnings about gestational diabetes, which is lurking in the wings waiting for any pregnant person who dares use it as justification for eating that extra biscuit. There is clearly a really deep-seated belief at play that if you give them - us - an excuse to eat more we will gorge ourselves on, IDK, chips and ice cream, because the only thing holding us back from obesity is the constant reminder that gaining weight is BAD and that eating too much food is BAD (even though the reality is that weight gain and higher caloric needs are part of a healthy pregnancy). This reality has to be held at arms' length and hemmed in with restrictions and cautions lest all hell break loose. You are very literally advised to calculate your BMI, weigh yourself regularly, and have a target weight gain - i.e. implicitly to restrict your food intake if your weight gain is higher - which I'm sure is just chill and fabulous for people with a history or present of eating disorders.

(The cherry on top of this is that it's normal for pregnant people to have suppressed appetites in late pregnancy despite needing more food because, again, there is an entire baby in there squashing their organs. Add in all those foods that you can't eat, and it can actually be somewhat challenging to eat enough.)

The bit that haunts me is that we know that caloric restriction during pregnancy makes children more likely to have higher weights later on, and you know who is most targeted with this diet-but-don't-diet-but-actually-kinda-do rhetoric? Fat people, who are advised to gain at absolute most about the weight of a healthy full-term baby + amniotic fluid/placenta/etc - and that it's fine if they gain much less weight than that, barely more than the weight of a healthy baby, which would actually equate to total weight loss. During pregnancy. It feels like there could be a lot of self-fulfilling prophecy going on here vis a vis fat parents having fat kids. which is now sometimes characterised as a form of child abuse. FUN.

Anyway, I am sure I'm not the only person to have made these observations (and if you know good writing on this topic I'd love to be linked to it, because I'm way too chicken to try Googling) but man. As I said at the start: the level at which fatphobia and diet culture are institutionalised during pregnancy, to the detriment of actual health, is wild.

(For my money, sane advice would be 'healthy eating advice is the same during pregnancy as it is other times except for the specific foods you should avoid because of increased food poisoning risk, and you need to eat a bit more in later pregnancy. The end.')

[thecrownestt]

The rule of the game was meant to be fun. It was meant to be playful.

"Let's try something new, I would loveee to see how driven you can be with the right motivation. I want to set a lofty goal for you. No touching, no squeezes, no massages, no self-touching, no love-making until you find a way to eat...hmm...how about 10,000 calories in one day? Most would say no, but most don't melt to my touch the way you do. Be the BEST piggy for one day, and you get the BEST I can offer you."

It wasn't supposed to be too difficult. We had talked about trying for that symbolic caloric goal. It's already mostly in reach on the days where he's attentive and the meals come very steadily. Sure. A little denial of orgasm, a little submissive pig caught under the thumb of a coercive feeder. Play along.

It has been four days now.

He's lying to me. He must be.

The first day was planned meticulously. He was not going to help, per a secondary rule. All the meals and snacks had to come from within a personal fountain of desire and determination. Prove that his pig is, in fact, a pig when left to its own piggy devices.

So I ate.

Start with a hard, concerted bang. A few breakfast sandwiches, a smoothie, a danish. Count the calories...ok, a big dent made in the goal before 11am. Plenty of time to snack while selecting a lunch order. Rinse and repeat for another 2-3 meals.

He looked at my tally. Look! There was even room to spare. 10,700 calories...it was 11:30pm. The day was not over. The goal is achieved. Now, please. Please please please. Touch me. Praise me. Embrace me. The pig was a pig.

"Not quite, dear. Look at this math...so sloppy. I know you've gotten a bit soft in the gut, but I didn't realize your mind had gone so mushy. Do you even know how to add? You'll have to try again tomorrow. Do you even understand me?"

That's. No. Wait. It can't be. Doesn't he want me? Didn't I do a good job? His disappointed look means something. He's good with this stuff. Maybe he's right...

So I tried again the next day. This time, he suggested he'd handle the adding. Checking bad math would make him bothered. Pigs don't think. They eat. That's what he said. I believed him.

He must be lying. There's no way the goal hasn't hit. So many walls have been hit that had to be pushed through. Hunger is merely a theory anymore. If breathing is easy, it's time to eat. Prove him that his pig is a GOOD pig. Please. So sore. So...mindless. The bed has been home. He's caring enough to bring what is needed. Why can't the goal be hit? What's wrong with pig...his words hurt. He said they didn't hurt nearly as bad as being accused of being a liar.

It's day five tomorrow. Today was a failure. Only 8800 calories! How. The count keeps getting further away. Maybe there's too much thinking going on. Maybe a pig needs to TRULY embrace being a pig. Eat with emotion. Eat with anger. Eat for him. He was taken for granted. He provides so much release. He's holding onto that power.

"Piggy doesn't get what piggy needs until there's nothing left in that dull mind but reaching the goal...only then can I give you everything."

[chahnniesroom]

tenderness | chapter 5: a little too much

[noun] /ˈtendərnəs/

1. the quality of being gentle, kind, or loving

2. the feeling of pain, aching, or soreness

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: in a world where soulmates are rare and precious, you don’t know why the universe has decided to give you one. you never could have imagined that they would be an idol, and one that you worked with at that, or the challenges that would arise from your bond.

chapter word count: 3.4k

chapter warnings: arguing

a/n: just wanted to say thank you so much to everyone who has liked, commented, and reblogged tenderness! i appreciate every interaction so so much!

also, happy stay day!!

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter | read it on ao3

As preparations for the tour ramp up, so does the amount of time you spend working. 

You’re still doing double time, assisting with schedules while staying up late at your desk to reply to emails and finalise details for the tour. You resort to alternating between sipping on tea and energy drinks to help you stay awake long enough to finish all your work. Even though you don’t like the way they make you feel, jittery and sometimes nauseous, it’s the only way that you’re able to meet your deadlines. Everyone on your team is feeling stressed these days and not even the snacks that the company sometimes provides are enough to bring a smile to people’s faces.

The only person that consistently stays later than you is Chan. He has practically become a permanent fixture in his studio and you’re starting to just barely meet the minimum recommended Charging times. It’s not bad enough that you’re concerned, you just watch what you’re eating and make sure that you’re getting enough calories to keep your energy levels up.

You keep a more careful eye on Chan’s diet too, although you don’t interfere because you know he has his own goals for the condition of his body. You make sure that the snacks and drinks he likes are always provided during schedules, that there’s always food available to eat in his studio, and bring dinner to him more often than not.

The two of you are on good terms, even if you don’t have a chance to hang out as often doing anything other than working or eating. In fact, you’re probably closer than you were before. Chan doesn’t treat you any differently, but there was a deeper understanding that was shared between the two of you. 

You’re relieved that after so many nights you spent worrying about Chuseok, you no longer felt like you were hiding something from him. There’s an unspoken agreement not to bring up anything about your eomoni’s treatment of you. You don’t think that you’ll ever see eye-to-eye on the subject, but you had expected that. You know how bad your relationship looks from an outsider’s perspective, but to you it’s complicated in a way that you don’t know how to put into words.

—

The first concerts for the tour were held in Seoul, so you didn’t think that you’d be as heavily involved. You’re honestly not too sure what to expect from your first time helping out backstage, but you never could have imagined the chaos.

During the first night, everyone was relieved that things went relatively smoothly onstage, but there were a lot of small problems that had to be resolved on the fly and need to be relooked at again. It means that, although the audience and the members had a great time, all the staff were exhausted by the end of the concert. You spent most of the time running back and forth basically as a stagehand, as it was too short notice for you to explain fixes for many of the issues that came up and easier for you to just do it yourself. You hadn’t realised how involved you were in the run of show, but over the months you had become familiar enough with all the little details that to be busy all night.

Cleaning up was another beast. Everything had to be packed away after each concert, but it seems like all the equipment has multiplied and there aren’t nearly enough containers to put them into. With all the troubleshooting, things weren't where you thought they would be or had been modified and could no longer be stored the way they were previously. It felt like a more intricate game of jenga with costumes, accessories, and equipment that were thousands of dollars.

Debrief was at least a chance for a physical break, but it’s another hour of discussion with your team on what could have been improved and what went well before you’re allowed to go home. You fell asleep in the car ride and Eunsung has to shake you awake when he drops you off in front of the dorms. You’re severely tempted to close your eyes during the elevator ride, but force yourself to stay conscious. You barely make out a greeting to the members, before collapsing on the couch, grateful to finally be sitting.

At least they’re all in an infectiously good mood, even if a few of them had cried from all the emotions during the encore. Their boost of energy cheers you up a bit and after a bit of time resting, you’re happy to join them for a very late meal. They eagerly recount everything that happened during the concert and talk over each other trying to share funny stories of mishaps or entertaining things they noticed in the crowd.

As tiring as it was for you, you think that it’s all worth it. It’s been a while since you’ve seen the members so excited, and as you were exiting the arena, there were a number of Stays that you had encountered, all of them equally as thrilled.

—

Working in the office is reprieve from the craziness of the concerts. The second show was fairly similar to the first, but a bit smoother and with that it was more fun. You knew better what to expect and found yourself enjoying the chaos instead of getting swept away. But even though you enjoyed the experience overall and are still looking forward to the rest of the tour, you now have a better appreciation for the quiet. You're definitely relieved that the initial tour planning gave a bit of time between the Seoul, Japan, and international concerts. 

The next month before you have to leave for Japan is critical, not just for you but also the members. It feels like you barely see any of them outside of the company anymore. Even though they've just had a comeback recently, they're already preparing songs for the next one and juggling that with attending brand events, doing solo interviews, and photoshoots for magazines. 

Chan has never complained about any of it, but you know that their growing popularity means more pressure and that's taking a toll on all of them. 3Racha spend hours going back and forth perfecting portions of songs before sending them for approval, more members try to get involved in songwriting, and everyone devotes their free time to vocal lessons, dance practice, and working out.

You know that they've been offered more days off, but were adamant to keep the schedules as tightly packed as possible. You're proud of them and understand why they've chosen this, but you're also concerned. The only thing you can do is support them and cheer them on, knowing that doing your job well will help them do their job.

—

It's just before 12:30 in the morning when you finally decide to save everything and turn off your computer. Although you're used to the long days and late nights, an early morning schedule means that you have to be back at the JYP building by at least 6 am to prepare, an hour earlier than the call time for the boys. You quickly pack your bag and make your way down to Chan's studio, where he's doubtlessly still working.

Sure enough, when you knock on his door and gently ease it open, Chan has his headphones on and barely nods a greeting before focusing back on his laptop. Knowing that your presence is enough of a signal for him to get ready to leave, you flop down onto his couch and pull up your thread of texts with one of the company drivers. 

You feel guilty but the recent cold weather and ever present threat of sasaengs camping outside of the building mean that he's used to all the late night requests. A fan had recently cornered Chan as he had left one day and had later posted about their encounter, leading to an increasing number of people loitering around the main exit, hoping for a glimpse of any of the members. Although there hadn’t really been any issues, it was enough that the JYPE had sent out a company-wide email about being more vigilant on keeping track of who is walking in and out of the building, as well as more security for the time being.

[12:32 am - sent]

Sorry, Chan-ssi and I will need a ride back to the dorms soon!

[12:34 am - received]

K. Just let me know when you're ready and I will pick you up.

[12:34 am - sent]

Thanks! You're the best! I'll let you know when we're about to head down.

Satisfied, you switch to one of your guilty pleasures, scrolling through Twitter. 

Your first account had been created before you worked at JYP and was used to keep up with some of your friends. You had made your second account when you started working with Xdinary Heroes as a show of support and also to get more insight on the fans to better cater to them. Now, that account and the newest one you had for Stray Kids were purely for fun. Sure, it was sometimes useful for work to see what piqued interest the most and what people were complaining about, but you mostly wanted to see people's reactions to content, it saved you money from subscribing to Bubble, and you could bookmark fanart that you thought the members might like to see.

You didn't post much and if you did, made sure nobody would be able to deduce that you were part of the staff. Your profile was generic and you followed a mix of Korean, English, and Japanese accounts, as well as some of the popular translation ones.

Everyone was excited for the upcoming Japan tour dates, especially after the recent Seoul concerts. The preview for the Japanese merch had just been released today so it dominated your timeline. Even though you haven't been on in a few days, you're glad to see there's still a lot of posts from the concert and that so many people, regardless of whether they were able to attend, enjoyed the show. 

Technically you had been there and there were a few screens scattered around that were streaming what was happening on stage, but all the staff were so busy that you had only been able to catch a few glimpses of the performances. Based on your conversations with other managers and coordis, it would continue similarly for the next few concerts as new issues arose and would have to be solved on the spot. You were hoping that you'd have a chance to be part of the crowd for at least one night sometime this tour.

After scrolling for about 15 minutes, you lower your phone a little bit to peek and see what Chan's doing. He’s still working on a song and doesn’t look close to stopping. You frown, usually he’s pretty good about wrapping up his work shortly after you arrive.

“Channie-oppa,” you call, keeping your tone light. “Are you almost done?”

“Yup,” he says absentmindedly, not even pausing in the work that he’s doing. You stare at him for a moment, but give him the benefit of the doubt. You know there’s more pressure on him than usual, there’s looming deadlines for their next album and limited time to do everything with preparations for the rest of the concerts. Even if it means sacrificing a little bit of energy, you don’t mind giving him some extra time.

After you notice 15 more minutes have passed, you bite your lip, not wanting to interrupt again, but also wanting to get home to rest and Charge for as long as possible. With a press junket scheduled to start early in the morning and continue for most of the day, you know that Chan has a long day ahead of him, and that yours was going to be even longer since you had to arrive before the members to help set up everything. 

It’s when the driver you had contacted sends you a text asking for an estimate on when you want to be picked up, that you decide to speak up.

“Hey, how much longer do you think you’ll be?”

“You can go home first,” Chan says instead of answering your question.

"Tomorrow your schedule starts-" you start to explain, but get cut off.

"I know," Chan says, sounding annoyed. He finally turns around to face you and tugs his headphones off roughly. "But this is important, I need to finish as much as I can right now, okay?"

"I’m saying this for your benefit. You'll be able to work better after you rest. I think it would be good if you took a break tonight."

"I'm good now!” he snaps. “I'm really good now. I was also good when you were not here. When you weren’t my soulmate. I worked as much as I wanted. I did things I liked. Even without you, I was fine every day."

"I- '' You swallow hard and look down, biting the inside of your cheek hard. Without anything for your hands to do, your fingers find a hangnail on your thumb and pick at it. "I just want to help you."

"Thanks, I don't need it,” he says, exasperated. “You really don't have to do these things for me. I can order my own dinner. I can choose when I want to work and when I want to stop. If I need to check my calendar, I can look it up by myself. You aren't family. You aren't my girlfriend. Yes, you’re a manager for Stray Kids. Yes, you're my soulmate, but you don't have to…. try to do everything, you know? It’s enough for you to just live your own life and do your job as a manager, but you don’t have to do anything extra.”

You make a small noise of acknowledgement, but the sound comes out with difficulty. Your throat is tight and aching while your nose is starting to stuff up, making it harder to breathe normally. You blink rapidly to keep your vision clear, eyes stinging. You know crying won’t do anything to change the situation except maybe make it worse, but you can’t help it. You’re almost glad when Chan continues on without waiting for a reply, as you don’t think you’d be able to say anything if he wanted you to.

“I know you think you know what this industry is like after 3 years, but you don’t. I was a trainee for 7 years, I’ve been an idol for longer than you've worked here. I know better than anyone what my limits are. You've told me how controlled you felt when you used to live at home, but sometimes I can’t help but think that some of your eomoni’s methods have rubbed off on you. I don't need someone constantly nagging me about this and that. I don’t need you bringing me food just because you think I need it. I don’t need you reminding me about schedules. I don't need you sitting around my studio trying to get me to go home when I'm not finished with my work. And I definitely don’t need or want you telling me when I should be taking a break, resting, not working, sleeping, all of that. Please, please, can’t you just leave me alone?”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice sounds wet and thick and cracks in the middle of your words. Not knowing what else to do, you bow in apology and are grateful that your face is hidden when you realise that the tears that have gathered at the corners of your eyes have finally fallen. You wipe them hurriedly, feeling mortified, but Chan hasn’t even noticed, already turned towards his laptop and with his headphones back in place. Even though he can’t hear you, you still say, “I’ll just go ho- back to the dorm now.”

As expected, he doesn't reply.

You must have subconsciously backed up when Chan's tone had risen, because you were now only a couple steps away from the exit, making your retreat easier. You close the door behind you as quietly as possible and beeline to the bathroom.

The harsh glare of the fluorescent lights hurt your eyes and exaggerate the redness of your face when you stand at the sink and stare at yourself. Where the skin was worried away on your thumb, there are now smudged beads of blood that you wash away. You splash your face with water to wipe away your tears, then press a soaked paper towel against your eyes to try to cool down the swollen skin there. When you look at yourself in the mirror, you almost laugh at the pitiful expression that stares back at you. It reminds you of all the times you did this when you were younger after conversations with your eomoni, meticulously applying make-up to hide any signs of weakness. You had gotten better over the years, at cleaning yourself up carefully and preventing yourself from crying in the first place.

After blowing your nose, you leave and head toward the building’s lobby. You don’t think that you can face anybody else tonight, so you text the company driver again, telling him that you’re getting a ride with someone else but that Chan would probably still need to get a ride home a bit later. You don't wait for confirmation before locking your phone and dropping it into your bag.

For once, you’re grateful for the cool air as you step outside the doors, the usually biting winds feel refreshing against your hot skin. At this time of night, there aren’t many people around, which means nobody pays attention as you start walking towards the dorms.

You take deep breaths to try and calm yourself down, pressing your cold hands against your cheeks which are still flushed with emotion.

You feel humiliated. Had you really come across as that desperate and overbearing in your interactions with Chan? 

One of your eomoni’s favourite ‘reminders’ to you growing up was that you were too much.

You were too emotional, too dramatic, too sensitive. You spent too much time daydreaming, imagining a future for yourself that would never happen. You were too open with people, too trusting. 

People don’t want that, she would say. They want you to be polite and quiet. You can have opinions, just keep them to yourself. You spend too much time doing whatever you want and not enough time listening to what people are telling you to do. You're expected to be obedient. Don't overstep.

It hurt to know that maybe there was truth in her words. It was clear now that you had done more than overstep.

Chan had sounded stressed, angry, and his tone had been cold, much sharper than you had ever heard before. He had been cruel, even. But what had caught you off guard the most was the deep-rooted frustration that you had heard. It meant that this likely wasn't the first time that he had thought these things, it was just the first time he had shared them with you. It was a wound that had been festering and he was just now exposing it for you to see.

You hate that you had caused that.

You also couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by your display of emotions in Chan’s studio. You hoped that he hadn’t noticed, but found it hard to believe that he couldn’t tell your voice was more choked up than usual. You used to pride yourself in having full control of your emotions, but had found yourself caught off guard so many times since you had met your soulmate.

You had become too soft-hearted and you hate that too.

Mechanically, you let yourself into the dorms and complete your nighttime routine as quietly as possible. All the other members are home, but their doors are closed and lights are off. Exhausted and emotionally drained, you curl up on your side of the bed and close your eyes, willing yourself to fall asleep quickly. 

The wound on your thumb stings.

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[vodika-vibes]

For Want of Honey

Summary: You're a beekeeper on Pabu, and Echo is one of your best customers. You like to think you're friends, and a long conversation on a hot summer weekend changes your relationship forever.

Pairing: TBB Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 1245

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @kiss-anon

You hum a quiet tune under your breath as you carefully set jars of honey out on the table in front of you. And then you set the bags of honey candy in their basket, and turn to pull out some homemade honey butter from where you store it on the trip between your home and the market.

And when you turn back to the stall you’re greeted by a blonde head of hair and dark eyes focused on one of the rolls you made fresh this morning.

“Good morning, Miss Omega.” You greet with a small grin as you lean on the table.

Omega’s gaze sheepishly snaps to meet yours, “Morning, Miss Bee.” She greets, “Your rolls smell really good. Did’ya make them this morning?”

“I did indeed. Would you like one?”

“I didn’t bring any credits,” Omega admits.

“Well, that’s alright. I won’t tell if you won’t.” You hand her a roll and grin as she immediately shoves it in her mouth, “Your brothers not feeding you, kiddo?”

“She’s eating us out of house and home, I swear we go to the store once a day and we never have enough food.” An amused voice pipes up from the side, and you turn and grin at Echo.

“I can’t help it,” Omega mumbles, her face reddening, “I’m hungry.”

You wink at Omega, “You’re a growing girl. Besides, based on how tall your brothers are, you’re going to be a tall woman, which means you need those calories.”

Omega grins, “See Echo, I need to eat so much.”

Echo smiles at his sister, “I heard.” And then he shakes his head as she runs off, “Thank you for humoring her, and for feeding her. How much do I owe you?”

“For my best customer?” You joke as you favor him with a warm smile, and you’re rewarded with him nervously rubbing the back of his neck and his ears burning red, “No charge.”

He smiles at you, a small shy little smile that makes your smile grow wider, and he moves to stand fully in front of the stall, “Well,” He says, as he studiously avoids your gaze, “Do you have anything new for us to try?”

“Just the same stuff, I’m afraid,” You reply, “I haven’t had time to experiment, since I set up the new beehouse.”

“Another new one?” Echo asks, surprised. “How many do you have now?”

“That was number eleven.” You say with a delighted grin, “I’m thinking I’m going to try and make some meade…well, once I figure out how. I would hate for it to be bad.”

“I don’t think anything you make could ever be bad,” Echo says in return, his gaze serious as he looks at you, though when you beam at him, he quickly looks the other way, the blush covering his ears spreading down to his neck.

You giggle, he really is too cute. “Well, thank you for the compliment, Echo. But you should have tasted some of my first attempts at candy. They were awful.”

“I have a hard time believing that. You’re always so sure about everything.” Echo’s gaze flickers to yours, and he flashes a small smile, “I’ve always admired that. You don’t let anything get under your skin.”

You shift some of the jars so that they look a little nicer, “Well, I used to. When I was a kid. And then I moved out and cut out my toxic family, and it turns out that I’m not actually hotheaded. I just react poorly to people digging at my insecurities.” You pause and then flush, “Sorry! I’m not, like, trying to trauma-dump on you or anything! You’re just really easy to talk to-”

Echo laughs and shakes his head, “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. I am.”

You sigh in relief, “That’s good. Here, have a roll. I made them this morning.”

Echo takes a roll with an amused quirk of his lips, “Thanks.” He takes a bite and is quiet for a moment, “You know,” He finally says, “I was a lot more confident before…well…” He motions to his scomp, “When I was whole.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, thinking on his words, “You know…you still seem really confident to me.”

“Sure, about fighting, and about military stuff. But anything else-”

You’re already shaking your head, “Echo, you come and talk to me week after week. You put up with my flirting and my jokes, and yeah, you blush and get a little flustered sometimes, but you never stop coming. That sounds like confidence to me.”

Echo pauses, and then his gaze snaps to yours, “Wait. Flirting?”

“...ah.” You sit up, and tuck your hair behind your ear, “You didn’t notice that-um…you can forget I said that.”

“No, no. I want to hear more. What’s this about flirting?” He asks, and you watch, amused, as he settles into his skin in a way that you’ve only seen glimpses of in the months you’ve known him. 

“It’s really not that important-”

“I need you to understand that there’s literally nothing more important to me at the moment than this.” Echo says with a grin.

You laugh softly, “Honestly, I thought you knew, and that was why you kept coming back.”

“I keep coming back because I like the way you smile at me.” Echo counters, “You smile at me like…well…like how women normally smile at Hunter.”

“I like you. I think you’re funny, and you’re fun to talk to, and you come to my stall every week.” You pause, and then you favor him with a small smile, “You know, you can always come to my farm. I won’t make you leave.”

He stares at you, surprised, “I…really? I thought that you’d be busy.”

“Oh, I’m always busy, but I can give you a suit, and you can follow me around while I work.” You grin at him, “I wouldn’t mind.”

“I might take you up on that offer.” Echo replies with a small smile. “Although,” He says slowly, thoughtfully, “I was thinking-”

“Yes?”

“Well, you know that the fireworks festival is at the end of the week, right?”

“I’m aware, yes.” You say with a laugh, “The flyers have been everywhere for the last month.”

“Do you want to come to the festival with me?” Echo asks, “Like. As my date?”

You beam at him, “I would love that!”

“You…you would?”

“Honestly, I was going to ask you if you hadn’t asked me. I was just trying to work up the nerve to do it.” You admit.

“You were nervous?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d say yes. Now it’s not a concern.” You grin at him, “Also, aren’t you supposed to be watching Omega?”

Echo blinks at you. Twice. And then he curses, “I have to go!”

You giggle, and press a small jar of honey into his hand, “Here you go, on the house. Maybe you can stop by my place tomorrow? I’m a pretty decent cook, even with things that aren’t honey related.”

Echo twists the bottle between his fingers, and he grins at you, “I’ll be there.” And then he slides the jar into the cloth bag that he’s carrying. He flashes one last crooked grin and a wave, and then he vanishes into the swelling crowd.

And you giggle in sheer delight, before you calm yourself and start humming a delighted little tune. This is going to be the best thing ever!

[star-ver]

my tips for restricting: notes from my intake log from october when i lost 10 lbs without trying:

1. aim for 0 calories, all the time, in any situation.

if this is going to be your absolute #1 goal, you need to think like it is. restriction and motivation need to be on your mind 24/7. this way you can never be caught off guard when tempted by food, or lose focus. i remember repeating "food is the enemy" in my head when i was about to get a snack.

2. keep your eating habits SIMPLE! do not complicate things. do not make decisions that depend on future you.

never say, "well, i'll still be under my limit" or "i'd have enough time to burn it off so might as well" because then you end up getting a ride instead of walking or being offered a snack and then suddenly you're completely off track and ready to lose control and binge.

3. make 1/3 of the food you eat "comfort food"

a decent part of the food i ate was some form of comfort food because my family are all fat americans. (i dont mean junk food, like cheeseburgers milkshakes poptarts etc) i think this helped me out because it gets rid of emotional hunger which is something i struggle with now. living off the stereotypical ana diet of almonds, black coffee, rice cakes, cucumber, cream cheese, dark chocolate and hardboiled eggs is only going to make you crave "bad" foods more. plus only eating cold foods makes you feel sad and bored. there's plenty of them, but my fav warm low cal comfort foods are:

campbells chunky chicken noodle soup (110 per cup, 220 per whole can) v filling and delicious, heat it up

bibigo (i think?) chicken and cilantro dumplings (i dont remember but theyre really low for dumplings)

4. weigh yourself every few days. don't get fixated on the number going down by specific increments, just make sure the general slope is downwards.

if you want to lose faster, restrict harder. getting fixated on numbers instead of eating habits is a great way to stop losing weight. i know it's exciting to calculate how much you'll lose eating 400 a day for a week but you are so much better off limiting your math to cal counting and unit conversion.

5. don't switch up your mindset!

only recently have i started losing my motivation often and switching between cal limits and diets and high res to low res. this leads me to binging and feeling out of control. i would recommend not dieting but always trying to get lower and lower "scores". don't worry about the abc diet or the get worse diet etc etc, just starve on your own and listen to your body (not too often though)

remember, discipline means sticking to what your plan says, not what your brain says!